Radio Rebel
by TheUnsungStoryteller
Summary: Hunger Games AU. Katniss has been secretly DJing the midnight radio show at her college station since her freshman year. So when a certain blue-eyed idealist is brought on staff to co-host, she struggles to maintain her tight reigns on all of the things she (thinks she) understands about life, love and the definition good music. {Not based on the DCOM of the same name}
1. Falling

"Music is a total constant. That's why we have such a strong visceral connection to it, you know? Because a song can take you back instantly to a moment, or a place, or even a person. No matter what else has changed in your or the world, that one song says the same, just like that moment." -Sarah Dessen,_ Just Listen_

**Katniss POV**

Style of the Day: Black Chucks, Vintage MTV hoodie

Song of the Moment: Falling by Haim

It was the solitude that had initially drawn me to the opportunity.

Some university students had converted the long abandoned firehouse into a grassroots radio station nearly thirty years earlier. A picture of the four founding members was still hastily draped from a wall hook, directly above my hanging mic. They were my only company on nights like these, when by 10 PM, all of the other volunteers were long gone, ready to take on whatever college adventure awaited them. I'd never been particularly great with people, so the loneliness suited me just fine.

"And that was Red Eye by Kid Cudi and Haim from the album Indicud. Next up on the Midnight Ride playlist is LES by Childish Gambino." I pressed the red button that signaled the beginning of the next track and simultaneously muted my microphone. I spoke as little as possible when live.

With my limited narration I allowed my audience –if I even had one- a certain distinct privilege, the ability to be lost in the music. It had never been about me, this radio thing, but the playlist. That's one of the reasons why I never used my name on air- not in the three years that I'd had the show. Creating an escape was something a little more familiar to me than I'd have cared to admit. And music had always somehow managed to mitigate the risks associated with direct participation with any and everything around me.

It was a Godsend finding the flier for WCUX my freshman year.

They were calling for someone to take over the late-night shift for a senior studying abroad during fall semester. I showed up at the house a day later with nothing but my ipod classic and my signature sunny disposition. It didn't take much convincing, after all. The current manager was amidst some serious relationship issues and didn't have a lot of time to interview a freshman with pretty low aspirations and even lower tolerance for people. He took one scroll through my "Top 25 Most Played" and gave me the gig on the spot.

I'd been filling the airwaves with my favorite tunes ever since.

There were lots of benefits to both having your own show and doing it at a time where

The eerie calm that overtook the studio during my show was something that I had grown to depend on. So when my best friend's oversized fist started rapping at the sound booth's window, I nearly fell out of my chair.

"Jesus, Gale!" I mouthed, once I had regained my bearings. I checked how much longer was left on the preprogrammed tracks and took off my headphones before yanking open the door. "You know I hate it when you do that." I rolled my eyes as he followed me into the booth, shutting the door back behind him.

Gale wiped his eyes furiously, a result of his hysterical laughter. "Sorry, Catnip, I couldn't resist. You about pissed your pants this time." I punched him in the shoulder before flopping back down into my well-worn leather chair. "Anyways, are you ready to go? That 8AM lab is gonna bite you in the ass tomorrow."

He pulled up the folding chair in the corner, turning it around so he could cross his arms over the back. "I know that, Hawthorne, but what was I gonna do? I have a rep to protect here, blessing the masses with _good _music. Unlike that shit you listen to." I put my headphones back on and unmuted my mic. Gale didn't dare respond with a snarky comment when the green light came on, announcing that I was live again. If there was one thing Gale could respect, it was the amount of care I put into my show.

"Well, that's it for this evening, folks. Hopefully you've had an evening worth remembering, or forgetting if that's what you're into. As always, I'll be back tomorrow night, and until then- happy Midnight Ride." I muted myself again and switched on the station's overnight playlist. Around 9 AM, Cato Aronson would be in to start the Early Morning Rock Block, so I prayed that whoever had made the playlist today had included plenty of Jack Johnson or John Mayer.

Something had to balance out the amount of Nickleback the student body would have to contend with in the morning.

"Don't be sour, Kat, you know you love Pearl Jam just as much as the next guy." I snorted, grabbed my leather messenger bag from the floor and tossed it over my shoulder. As much as he could manage to get under my skin, I couldn't help but be grateful to have a friend with a car, willing to pick me up at 2AM everyday. There weren't many people that would do that. But then again, there weren't many friendships that had been through the amount that Gale and I's had.

"I'm not having this argument again. It's too late to listen to your dissertation on 'Daughter' again. 'Oh Katniss, it's so beautiful! Eddie Vedder is a poet'" I spoke in the highest pitch possible, mocking his admiration and effectively earning myself a headlock. I attempted to wrestle myself out but my uncontrollable laughter and Gale's sheer monstrous size was making it virtually impossible. Finally I had to concede by admitting to having a secret obsession with the song and tell Gale that his musical tastes were far superior to my own.

Some lies were worth telling if it meant getting home and to sleep before my 8AM class.

I locked the doors behind us, checking and double-checking to make sure everything was secure. The station had become my home away from home, really, and I never felt quite right walking away without giving it the proper precautions. "I don't know why you bother anyways. Nobody wants to steal your crap circa 1980's soundboard."

Gale commented and started up his precious –albeit super crappy- 1989 Geo Metro. The irony wasn't even worth addressing. "Can you just shut your mouth and get me home, please? I don't have a modicum of the energy it would take to contend with that statement."

I must have drifted to sleep in the ten minutes it took to get from the station back to my apartment because when I opened my eyes, Gale had effectively carried me up to my door with one arm while unlocking it with his free hand. My arms had been draped around his neck unconsciously and immediately dropped them after realizing what was going on. "Oh uh, welcome back to earth, sleepy head. I felt bad waking you up."

If I didn't know him so well I would have sworn he was blushing. He carefully set me down on the ground and popped the door open. Even using the key, it was hard to get into my crappy place without kicking the thing in. We needed to call the landlord again, but our rent was too cheap to complain too much about the amenities.

"I uh, well don't worry about it. Thanks. I guess this late-night/early morning thing is starting to get to me." I straightened my hoodie, which had at some point ridden up to my navel.

It wasn't that Gale hadn't seen much more from me (and countless other girls, I'm sure), I mean, he'd been carrying me my entire life. It was just that something about him carrying me tonight had seemed different. Like the time when I was in 5th grade and he was in 7th that we'd gone sledding and an unseen ice patch had caused me to slip and break my ankle. He carried me in one arm and my father's old sled in the other for a mile, when I cried about leaving the old thing behind. He never once complained and had never once looked at me like he was now.

"Well don't flatter yourself, Catnip. You barely weigh a buck ten, soaking wet." With that the momentary awkward tension that had creeped in was shattered. I was back to being his annoying little sister.

"Shut up, Hawthorne. I've gained a little!" I whisper-hissed, careful not to wake my roommates. There wasn't really any argument. I had always been naturally petite. Gale smiled and turned to head back to his car.

"Go to bed, Everdeen. Wouldn't want you to miss class for once." My perfect attendance was always a joke among my friends. No matter how committed I was to my time slot or my actual job, nothing was worth missing a precious (and expensive) class day over. I rolled my eyes and shut the door behind me, the apartment just as messy as it had been when I left this morning. Of course none of the girls had bothered to clean. It was practically an unspoken rule around here. Without any preamble, I pushed the leftover Chinese cartons off of the couch and fell back onto it. I grabbed the quilt from the floor and wrapped it around myself.

I'd get on the girls for having no respect for my sleeping space in the morning.

**Peeta's POV**

Style of the Day: Red "The Bean Shop" polo, unwashed/ironed khakis, slip-on Vans

Song of the Moment: Alien Days by MGMT

There was very little that could make this job bearable.

The ungodly hour that I'd managed to pull all semester was starting to wear on my soul. And that was the simplest, least dramatic way to put it. Or at least that was the way I felt on this particular morning. The Bean Shop opened its doors at 7, which meant us morning shift folks were scheduled to arrive at 6AM to get everything prepared for the day. I kept reminding myself not to complain too much about the gig. It was, in fact, the only reason I could still attend State. Well, that and driving the Night Owl campus bus service from 11PM til 2AM.

But I mean, really, how much could a guy do with coffee beans at 6 in the morning?

"Peeta…Peet!" I was jolted out of my reverie when my coworker and best friend started shaking me by the shoulder. I was stocking the napkin holders in the center of every table, singing along to MGMT's newest album, probably a little too loud. "Jeez, Peet, I've been trying to get your attention from behind the counter for five minutes!"

"Sorry, Finn, guess I was so focused on stocking these napkins I just couldn't be shaken." I jested half-heartedly. His eyes crinkled with vague amusement at my joke. Finnick was the only reason I landed this job in the first place, having already been working here for a semester when I came into my financial aid troubles. We had been roommates freshman year and had instantly hit it off. So when I lost my wrestling scholarship a year later, he put in a good word for me with the pastry chef.

We'd been causing trouble and making overpriced beverages together ever since.

"Yeah, I'm sure. You look beat, by the way. Those baby blues are losing their sheen. But listen, Moira said it's time to open up shop and she's not taking any prisoners today, so you'd better get on it." I ignored his jab with a scoff. The bags that were sure to be forming under my eyes were no surprise. I was barely managing 3 hours of sleep a night.

I took out my headphones and glanced back over his shoulder to where our manager stood, staring impatiently.

"So you told her the 'Boss-with-benefits' plan wasn't working for you, I take it." I wrapped my earbuds around my old school ipod and stuffed it into my pocket. "I told you that was a bad idea from the start, bro."

Finn ran a hand through his copper colored hair nervously. I'd seen him swoon many-a-woman in the time we'd known each other, and it very rarely turned out well for any of us in the end. So when he started sleeping with our new manager a few weeks ago, I had a feeling the job'd turn ugly pretty quick. "I know, man, I know. But hey, she's on the fast track to corporate anyways. So at best we only have to put up with this for what, one, two more years?"

"Hopefully we'll be out of here by then, buddy." I clapped him on the back and headed towards the kitchen, ready to take out the various desserts that I'd popped in earlier. Finn stood behind me, singing a song and bouncing from foot to foot. He did that a lot. He wasn't all that good at this job, really. All of our previous managers had kept him around for his winning personality and charming smile. That was all right by me, though, it felt like being back in the bakery with my big brothers.

Moira walked through moments later, shooting death glares in our direction, and if I hadn't missed it, flipping Finn the bird. This was starting to feel more like home everyday.

I laughed silently and we made haste putting the pastries on the shelf and readying the shop to open. Within moments, a stream of students and professors began pouring in, getting prepped for their morning classes. Since the shop was located within the Union, directly in the center of campus, we got a lot of business on weekday mornings. We were busy enough for me to forget how exhausted I was for a while. "Peet, dude, did you see those two chicks that just sat down?"

Finnick appeared next to me as I wiped down a table that my old 18th Century English Lit professor had just vacated. Everyone here seemed like a familiar face. "There are 20 people in here, Finn, you're gonna need to be more specific." I smiled at his antics. If there was one thing I could count on my best friend being enthusiastic about, it was a beautiful woman.

"I know you're lame, Peet, but you aren't BLIND. I'm talking about those two in the corner! Their regulars, I think. The brunette looks a little edgy for my taste, but the blonde, well, you know how I feel about blondes." I could practically feel Moira cursing us from behind the register.

We were so losing our jobs.

It didn't take long to spot them after he had pointed the two out, however. I could tell that wavy brown hair from anywhere. And I couldn't help but get a little flustered at the familiarity. "Oh uh, them, yeah. They're pretty cute." I turned my head back to the table, scrubbing at an imaginary spot, hoping that Finn would just let it drop.

"Peeta, my boy," He slapped my back, "you gotta go make a move! I'm telling you, I can read people, you know? And I'm reading that the brunette would totally fall for your artistic wit and self-deprecating humor. She looks like one of those hipster types."

I wanted to roll my eyes. For a generally wacky guy, Finnick was surprisingly good at reading people he hadn't met. He had been way off when it came to Katniss, though. "How about I just do enough work for the both of us this morning and let you take care of the ladies, huh bud?" I moved to the next table, purposely moving in the opposite direction of the girls, praying that the burning nerves weren't all over my face.

"Because, man, I can't let this go on any longer! You're young, you're handsome –if you don't mind me saying- and you're celibate! Something is wrong with that!" People were turning around to look at the two of us. The intimate setting of the coffee shop wasn't really a place for airing dirty laundry. An elderly woman reading Sylvia Plath coughed and glared at us out of the corner of her eye. Finn lowered his voice. "All I'm saying is, you're my best friend and I'm worried about you, man. You broke up with Ginger or whatever her name was-"

"You know her name was Clove."

He continued, unperturbed, "-eight months ago. It's time to move on."

He was right, not that I was willing to let on or anything. The only thing was, the girl I wanted to move onto, the reason Clove and I had broken up in the first place, refused to acknowledge my existence.

The only time she'd ever spoken to me was at midnight, from 12 to 2, on WCUX.

**Katniss POV**

Style of the Day: Thrifted boyfriend jeans, red plaid flannel and black chucks

Song of the Moment: Gone by Phillip Phillips (or whatever is playing over the speakers in the damned coffee shop)

Annie was doing that motherly thing she always does.

First it had been my lack of jacket when I arrived at our organic bio lab this morning, then it had been about my lack of sleep the night before and now it was my work schedule. It always ended up back at my work schedule with her. I was spending too many hours at the studio for her taste and she thought it was getting a little unhealthy.

"Annie, I've avoided 8AM's for the past four semesters. It was bound to catch up with me at some point." I yawned, but attempted to sip my drink to cover it up. While I didn't support the big business of commercialized coffee shops, this place was fantastic. The Bean Shop had a prime location after early morning courses and late night shifts, affordable beverages and that funny red headed guy who always added an extra cinnamon shot to my drinks for free. "I can't give up my show, you know that."

There were few things that I was willing to change about my life, I'd realized. When I found a way that worked for me, I didn't find function in changing it. While this schedule admittedly wasn't ideal, it was workable. And I was okay with that.

"Katniss, sweetie," she began in her gentle voice, "I just hate seeing you like this. You're exhausted all of the time, you barely have time to do your homework," she lowered her voice even more, "and you wore this same outfit two days ago."

If it weren't so painfully true, it would almost be laughable. I had found these clothes lying on the floor of the living room -which currently doubled as my bedroom- and thrown them on this morning in a fit of exhaustion. They smelled clean enough, but observant little Annie noticed everything. "A, please stop worrying about me, I'm fine. You know I like a challenge. And besides, I have to work to pay for school and I have to do the show to stay sane. There aren't really many options, y'know?"

She leaned back in her seat, carefully examining my face. I suddenly felt self-conscious. If she had realized that I was re-wearing dirty clothes, what would I unconsciously give away next; the fact that the nightmares had kept me from sleeping at all last night, which was why I had barely been able to keep my eyes open during lab this morning?

"You need someone to cohost your show." She leaned back in her seat and smiled kindly. I had a feeling that she wanted to say more, but restrained. Annie was good like that, only saying what must be said. She didn't waste words. Wasn't frivolous with her speech. It was the reason why I took all of her suggestions in such high regard- because she meant every bit of it. "That way you can maybe get some homework done, focus on your reading, sneak in a little nap even."

It was a simple solution, and something that I had never considered. I hated the thought of bringing someone else into my territory and subsequently revealing a very intimate part of my identity (one that I'd otherwise managed to keep secret). "I'll bring it up with the station manager when I go to pick up my check today, okay? Now, stop stressing about me and let's focus on going over these notes. You know orgo is my worst subject this semester."

Annie was a science whiz. Having been an only child to two parents who had PhD's in Marin Biology and Human Psychology, respectively, she was raised in an environment that encouraged academia. Me on the other hand, well, it was a miracle I had even made it to college at all. My father was a jazz pianist before he died, never having been formally trained or educated; it was never a major contention in our house. It wasn't until after he died that I realized had he or my mother bothered with an education, maybe she would have been able to hold down a steady job and kept some food on the table for my little sister and I.

College was a decision of necessity more than choice for me.

We had barely cracked open our notebooks before the redheaded barista had appeared at our table. He had on his best and brightest smile, directed right at Annie this morning. If he weren't so disgustingly endearing I would probably yack. "Good morning lovely ladies! Perhaps I could interest you in a Cinnamon Croissant, on the house?"

Annie, as precious as she is, accepted the pastry with an equally vibrant smile. "Why thank you, um…"

"Finnick," he offered, puffing out his chest a bit.

"-Finnick. My name is Annie, Annie Cresta. These are my absolute favorite. Aren't they, Katniss?" She looked to me for confirmation. I nodded into my beverage, attempting to stifle my laughter. Annie never had any idea when a man was hitting on her. Her good nature was inclined to believe that every man went around offering women free things and helping them carry their books or whatever it was that happened to pretty girls with bubbly personalities. "I really appreciate it, Finnick."

I stole a glance at the barista, now identified as Finnick, who seemed completely thrilled that Ann had said his name, not once, but twice in the course of their conversation. "It was my pleasure, Annie. I'll make sure to let me buddy Peet know. He's the one who baked them, actually." He nodded back to the table in the corner where his busied himself with cleaning already spotless tabletops.

"FINNICK!" The woman at the register shrieked from behind the counter. "Get. Over. Here." He smiled sheepishly and winked at Annie before turning back towards what I could only assume was his manager. My eyes remained on the baker.

"Oh, wasn't he sweet? I love this shop. The people here are the best. Aren't they, Katniss? My goodness, I absolutely adore their sweets…" Annie went on and on about her affinity for The Bean Shop, but she had lost my attention.

When he met my eyes from across the room, I couldn't look away. Something about his gaze had me transfixed. Something about him seemed entirely familiar yet completely foreign at the same time. It took Annie gently waving in my face to capture my attention again. I quickly diverted my eyes and felt a blush creep up my neck.

"Are you okay, Kat? You look a little warm." The back of her hand had found my forehead.

I shook her off and shoved my things into my messenger bag. I had to get out of there. "I uh, no yeah, it's weird, this fall weather. It gets to me sometimes, you know like my allergies are acting up and stuff. And then like it gets hot and I'm cold or something…" I was rambling and I couldn't exactly pin why.

I knew this boy responsible for the bread from somewhere, but I sensed that he knew even more about me.

And I had to get away from him.


	2. Make Light

**Hey all! Hopefully if you're here you stuck around after reading the first chapter and liked where our little tale was heading. I'm having a lot of fun with this and hope that you do too. This chapter is getting to know our characters a little better, so I hope you enjoy!**

"Life, he realized, was much like a song. In the beginning there is mystery, in the end there is confirmation, but it's in the middle where all the emotion resides to make the whole thing worthwhile." -Nicholas Sparks, _The Last Song_

**Peeta POV**

Style of the Day: "Mumford and Sons" summer tour t-shirt, zip up hoodie, (paint splattered) slip-on Vans

Song of the Moment: Make Light by Passion Pit

Seemed like I spent the majority of my life in uniform.

This one; covered in paint remnants from years past and reeking of acetone, surrounded by beautiful things, happened to be my favorite. The studio was all but abandoned by this time on Saturday nights on most weekends, so I was free to turn the portable radio speaker I kept stashed in the supply closest all the way up. Tonight, the lyrics bounced off of the walls with added purpose.

_But darkness falls likes shattered pieces; dangling, shimmering, torn and tattered and crowned. Oh, I'll not be told, "No", to "No more"_

Most other studio arts majors did their work during the day, opting to feed off of one another's creative energies, tossing suggestions and praise around the room. For me, the lonely quiet was the only way to get to the heart of every piece.

Not to mention, I had never been much of a sleeper anyways.

The majority of my weekends in college had been spent in this very studio, actually, getting lost in the cross-section of music and art. Of magic and miracles. This was the place where I could make things happen. These were moments I had always wished to keep private. Until today.

_Yes, I lie and I wrangle with prospective angles that glare me down and face me. With all I do wrong, why do they all look like me?_

I had been thinking about the way Katniss looked at me in the coffee shop nearly every moment since Wednesday. The way she didn't immediately divert her eyes when she caught me gazing at her. The spark of vague recollection that seemed to don across her features before she broke it. The rush of blood to her tanned face. The way she hastened out the door.

It was easy to pin down the moment that I'd first noticed her. I mean, _really noticed her. _If I was being honest, it all started freshman year. We'd shared our "History of Music in the Asian Diaspora" lecture fall semester and I had immediately been taken by her tenacity. I'd been comfortably seated in the third row when she slid into the chair in front of me; just close enough to get everything the professor said, but far enough away to avoid being called on. She had this look about her that left little room for question- she was here to learn and everything else could wait. I watched her take notes meticulously every class, even adorning her margins with additional commentary.

My margins were filled with sketches of the way her braid fell haphazardly down her back. I maybe managed a C average in there that semester.

_If I had hands I'd hold up high my lofty dreams and my alibi's real name. But I have no strength._

Every time the class met I'd attempt to work up the courage to speak to her, but always found an excuse to chicken out. She was beautiful and driven and unmistakably off limits. It took meeting Clove at a party a few months later to provide the necessary diversion that made my adoration for Katniss far less creepy. I had a hot new girlfriend (who seemed to be pretty into me), so it only made sense to stop pining after the woman with the scowl and icy grey eyes. Which worked until summertime, when she decided that I wasn't ready for long-term commitment with her and I had no argument against it.

It took until sophomore year for me to realize that it was Katniss' voice that wafted through my speakers every night as I worked, though. It was her rather brilliant music choices that provided my pieces with their necessary inspiration.

"Hey boy, it's time to close up shop. I gotta get outta here at some point," I glanced up from my canvas to see my Advanced Studio Construction professor leaning against the doorframe. Professor Abernathy stayed holed up in his cramped and cluttered office until he absolutely had to leave every night. Unlike most of my teachers, he wasn't a visual artist, but an architectural conceptualist. He built magnificent sculptures from everyday materials. He spent his life turning nothings into somethings.

It was a quality I admired in him. Which was why I never understood why he drank himself into oblivion every evening. And was probably why the university still chose to turn the other cheek. I didn't know what he had to go home to, but he always seemed as reluctant as I to abandon the studio.

I swept my brush across the canvas once more before pulling my apron over my head to drape it on my stool. "Alright Haymitch, give me a second." Abernathy was easily my favorite prof. We'd built a quick rapport early on in my college career due to my need to be let into the space late at night and his virtual inability to leave.

"What are you working on tonight anyways, blondie? Another one of that angry girl?" He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in my direction. Haymitch was the only person that had ever seen the actual work I'd done of her. My need to attempt a recreation of her features with nothing but a paintbrush and my memory was something I couldn't explain to anyone else. She was an enigma to me. Even I couldn't understand the pull.

I grabbed the unfinished painting off of the easel and leaned it against the inside of Haymitch's office wall. No one ever bothered to go into that dump, so it'd always been safe to store my work in there. "Are you starting with this again, Old Man?"

He guffawed and pulled his door shut, glancing briefly at the clock. "Don't give me that, boy. You've been here for three hours working on that piece." I zipped up my hoodie against the surprisingly chilly fall air as we stepped outside. "I don't know why you don't march right over to that station and give her something to smile about. God knows she needs it- the amount of disdain you paint her with."

Haymitch was also the only person who'd I'd told about uncovering her on-air identity. "She's not angry, she's just… focused." I defended weakly. To be honest, I didn't know how she felt. I hadn't ever said two words to the woman. "Whatever," I approached the bike that I had chained up in front of the arts building; "I'll talk to her when the time is right. Today is not that day." Haymitch rolled his eyes and started in the direction of the staff parking lot.

"Well, you better get on it then. Because if she's half as good looking as the one in your over-indulgent paintings, I'm surprised she ain't married already." I laughed silently and reminded myself to start keeping my love-life (or lack thereof) private from there on out. Before I rode off, I removed a flier that someone had slipped into the spokes on my wheel. I began to crumple it up when the simple, bold declaration gave me pause.

**WCUX MIDNIGHT RIDE IS LOOKING FOR A FALL SEMESTER CO-HOST. IF INTERESTED STOP BY THE STATION OR SEND US AN EMAIL ASAP.**

The to-the-point delivery could only mean two things; Katniss really needed some help with the show.

And I had finally found my in.

**Katniss POV**

Style of the Day: Exhaustion

Song of the Moment: Riddles in the Dark by Ripple and Murmur

I had hit the wall that everyone warned me about.

As much as I had tried to fight it, balancing a full course load on top of two jobs wasn't working out the way that I had initially hoped. Not that I was complaining about either (working and going to school were miracles not worth questioning), but other people had their concerns. Including, but not limited to, my roommates.

"You're mad because we left Chinese on the couch? Kat, let's be honest, you spend a total of five hours here per day- all of which are spent asleep." Madge crossed her legs in the La-Z-Boy, nestling her waif-like frame into the worn material. The oversized thing practically swallowed her. "All we're saying is, you're too tired to clean- we totally get that. But don't be mad when I forget to pick up my dinner."

I glanced around the living room, which had doubled as my bedroom this semester. The three of us had moved into this hole in the wall one bedroom to save money this year; something that we all desperately needed to do. Each of us was working our way through school, so cramming into a cheap space only made sense.

"You know I don't give a shit what you do, Brainless. Just keep your damn underwear under control." Johanna emerged from the kitchen and popped open her beer. She only drank Pabst Blue Ribbon, not for the taste or anything, but for the price. Madge giggled to herself and pointed to a pair of boy shorts that I had left lying around.

"Fair enough." The room was tragic. But since sleeping on the convertible sofa cut the amount I paid per month completely in half, I wasn't going to complain about lack of privacy. "Sorry I haven't had any time to pick up around here, guys."

"You haven't had time for _anything _for Christ sakes!" Jo chugged her beer and crushed the can with her hand. "We've been back to school for what; a month and a half now? You don't even come out with us on the weekends. And let's be honest, there're only so many times I can deal with this one," she flipped her thumb in Madge's direction "drunk-sobbing on my shoulder before it gets old."

Madge swiped at her arm and pouted. She was completely right, though. Here we were, three relatively lively young women staying in on a Saturday night, because it was my only free day all week. "To be fair, I didn't party before either." Before this year. Before the jobs.

Before the accident.

"Whatever. You know where I'm coming from." She flopped down on the opposite end of the couch. She clicked on the television and turned to our favorite telenovela. We didn't have cable, so our best entertainment for the evening was Spanish-language soap operas. "Oh God, I bet Ronaldo is going to tell Julieta that he's been cheating on her with Eduardo this week."

Madge launched into her tirade on shipping Ronieta vs Ednaldo and I took my opportunity to slip into the kitchen. My laptop sat unattended at our card/kitchen table and I fired up the email account for WCUX. I had tossed some fliers around campus advertising for the co-hosting position earlier in the day, as per request from the station manager. She seemed to be as concerned with my work schedule as the rest of the world. It hadn't taken any convincing that an assistant might possibly helpful- she absolutely insisted. Showed how much she knew; another set of hands on my soundboard was just going to be a pain in the ass.

I quickly scrolled through a number of spam emails searching for one that might apply to me. We had already gotten a couple of bites on the job. One of the inquiries mentioned bringing live punk bands into the studio: DELETED. The next one offered to narrate a midnight All-Avril bender- all Avril Lavigne, all the time: DELETED. The next couple were along the same lines. It wasn't until the last message, that I found myself actually engaged in the content. It was a message from someone who was both lyrical and honest, poetic without being sappy. Last but not least, someone with actual decent taste.

I typed them up a quick response, inviting them to the station for an interview the next day. They'd sit down with our station manager for the official vetting and once-over before they'd be sent for a trial run with me. While it apparently was important to expand the show, my anonymity remained my top priority.

"Did you hear me, Kat?" Jo shouted from the living room. I quickly shut the screen of my computer and bounded back to my spot on the couch. I had to shove Johanna's feet out of my way to sit.

"Nope," I yawned. "What are you running off at the mouth about this time?"

"I was just telling Madge here that you hadn't gotten laid in over a year. That's an accurate assessment, right?" Of course that was it. Johanna would probably go down in my books as the closest female friend I'd ever had. We met in our "American Feminism" class freshman year and had immediately disliked one another. Eventually that dislike turned to slight disdain, moderate toleration and then eventually mutual respect. For all intents and purposes she was my best girl friend.

In that moment, though, it felt a little more like those days of moderate toleration.

"Jesus, Jo! Give me a break. Some of us aren't preoccupied with the mania of sexual deviancy." I crossed my legs and willed myself not to blush. It wasn't that I was ashamed of my love-life (or lack thereof), it was just a hard concept for most people –including those closest to me- to understand. I had very carefully structured my adult life to be highly regimented, allowing myself a sense of control I'd never been able to experience. The issues at hand were far bigger than having a sex life.

At least that's what I was telling myself.

Johanna however, was no stranger to living life on the edge. If her physical appearance were any testament to her risk-taking abilities, then her lifestyle choices would be no shock. Her naturally jet-black hair had been cut into a choppy asymmetrical bob in front of our bathroom mirror (and the tips subsequently dyed hot pink). She had a minimum of four piercings in each ear (that included a bar through her cartilage), a hoop through one of her nostrils and a stud in her left temple. All of which complimented her full left-arm sleeve tattoo, adorned with images of her woodland childhood home.

Needless to say, Jo did whatever she wanted _whenever _she wanted to do it.

Madge leaned forward in her seat in disbelief. "_A year, _Kat? You have got to be kidding me." I wasn't in the mood for this conversation. "I'm not even as out there, no offense Jo, as she is and even I think that's cause for alarm."

"I haven't had sex since that Halloween party at Cato's last year, okay?! Now can we give it a rest, please? I'd rather be watching telenovelas." Johanna scoffed and threw her hands in the air. I snapped in her direction, "What is it?"

"You mean to tell me that steroid-filled shock jock's hot dog was the last one in your bun? That's absolutely tragic, Brainless! You have to put yourself back out there. Right now, like yesterday."

I didn't bother telling mentioning that our little tryst Halloween night shouldn't even have counted. Hooking up with Cato Koch was among the foremost decisions I wished I could take back. We'd known each other for about a year of working at the station when he flippantly invited me to his Halloween party. Jo and I showed up, sans costume, and immediately got rip-roaringly drunk. It was my first night out of sophomore year and I was more uncomfortable than I'd probably ever been before.

I don't drink normally, so it took way less shots for me to lose it than it did Jo.

The details that I remember are sporadic but specific. Like the way Cato came up to me, reeking of Drakkar Noir with knockoff Jack Daniels seeping from his pores. Or how we were pressed up against each other on the dance floor. The space was too crowded and the room too hot, but he was talking to me the way no one ever had before. And he was placing his hands on my hips like he really thought I was something sexy. It felt good. And I felt lonely.

So we went upstairs.

I lost my virginity at 19, to a guy who listened to Nickleback. I couldn't get the image of the tangled sheets out of my head. I couldn't stop thinking about how what we were doing was so wildly unwarranted and unlike me. But I'd never told any of my friends any of that. I sat on my shame and deflected the ridicule with my natural bristly personality.

"You're right, Jo. Let me head out and bone the first guy in sight." Madge giggled and I flipped Johanna the bird.

She grinned wickedly, "I've never steered you wrong."

I had nearly tuned her out when she added,

"I bet that blonde from the coffee shop would be a good lay."

And I suddenly had no explanation for the rapid uptick in my heart rate.

**Please leave me reviews; they're like the fuel that powers my inspiration! And also, make sure to check out some of the artists featured in this fic. I don't own the rights to any of their music, but I sure wish I possessed their talent.**


	3. Bloodline

This chapter is a short one, because I have another one in the works right now that is sure to knock your socks off. There is some good news on the way, so make sure you let me know what you thought of it in your reviews.

And as usual, I don't own the Hunger Games or any of the music featured… Enjoy!

**Peeta's POV**

Style of the Day: Camo cargo shorts, Pink Floyd "Dark Side of the Moon" t-shirt

Song of the Moment: Bloodline by Matt Morris

She wasn't speaking to me.

She had barely spoken a full sentence in the week since I'd started co-hosting. Actually, the most conversation we'd shared was when she told me how to work the soundboard. Other than a few quick-tempered reprimands about talking too much, Katniss had barely acknowledged my existence. At least she had let me select a song tonight.

Since we were in a stalemate, I decided that it'd just be best to catch up on my Intro to Philosophy reading.

"Why are you here?"

It took me a minute to realize that my cohost had uttered her first word of the evening. It took me another minute to process her question. "Why am I _here_?"

She slowly turned her head in my direction, looking on with her signature-glazed passivity. She shut the notebook that she had been writing in all this time. "Yes, Peeta, why are you here? It's not like this job pays anything." I was starting to get a little frustrated. I had been here, trying everything in my arsenal to get her to warm up to me, and _I _was the one whose motives were being called into question.

"I could ask the same of you."

She opened her mouth to speak and shut it quickly. "Because this is mine." She whispered, barely over the faint hum of the playlist. Her eyes met mine a flashed with something I hadn't seen in the time that we'd known each other. "This show was mine and I could do it on my own. _Can _do it on my own. And the only reason you're here is because everyone in my life thought I needed you."

I would have been taken aback if I hadn't grasped that this was how she felt about my presence all along. Somehow, it still stung a little though. When I had gotten the email about interviewing last week, I had felt pretty enthusiastic. Even Finn was pointing out the extra pep in my step that Monday. "Dude, I'm just saying, you look like you just got some. You're smiling at _Moira, _and trust me, I know how hard that is to do."

We were busy prepping the ovens for the early morning pastry rush and I hadn't stopped smiling all morning. "Ah, my dear friend, this is something better than sex!" I was whistling. I didn't even know that I could whistle.

Finn laughed and popped a polled piece of cookie dough into his mouth. "I don't know what could be better than that, bud. But I'm gonna take your word for it! What has gotten into you, man?"

I ran my hand through my hair quickly, trying to find the words. "Have you ever just felt like everything was falling into place? Like, something you've been waiting for -but never thought would happen- could indeed happen?" I leaned against the warming oven and smiled.

"It's a woman! Peeta Mellark, the perpetually single, finally has his eyes on a lady! Well, I'll be." He punched me in the shoulder. "I'm not going to press you for details, bud, I know how you don't like to jinx things like this. I don't believe in fate or whatever you romantics call it, but best of luck, pal."

I walked away feeling infinite.

I'm pretty confident that my mood has done a complete 180 in the past 7 days. "Hey listen, I'm sorry about that, I didn't realize.. I just um, I love music. And I love this show." _And I probably love you._ "So I figured it would be something rewarding to get involved with."

Katniss' face softened considerably. "You love my show?" She sounded incredulous. She sounded like she couldn't possibly believe that someone beside herself could potentially care. "Like, you mean, you've tuned in on purpose?" I wanted more than anything to take away the awe that her look held.

"Of course I do. Every night, back when I was driving the Night Owl." She folded her legs in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You drove the Night Owl?" If I hadn't known any better, I might have thought she was actually engaged in a conversation with me. "Not even I can handle riding that bus."

I knew that I was beaming. I didn't care. We were actually exchanging thoughts. "I'm not going to lie, driving that route gave me more crazy stories for other people than my own college life has given me." Something passed over her face, and before I knew it, her normal expression was back. Which meant, as usual, she was done with me.

"Song's over. You're up, Shakespeare."

**Katniss POV**

Style of the Day: Skinny jeans, black chucks and a STATE Music School hoodie

Song of the Moment: Ribs by Lorde

He was trying really hard.

Peeta had been attempting to rope me into conversation all week, but I just wasn't biting. There were a lot of reasons for why I was being so standoffish with him, some much more easy to explain than others. Maybe it was the way his brilliant smile illuminated the entire sound booth every time he looked at me. Maybe it was his ability to make even the simplest transition sound poetic. Maybe it was how gentle he'd been, attempting to nudge me awake when I'd drifted off towards the end of our shift.

He was trying hard and he was succeeding and I wanted to hate him for it.

But I couldn't, and that was probably what was making this so hard. I couldn't fault him for his good nature and youthful naiveté. I might have even envied him for it. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?" He turned back to me after resuming the song. I had let him choose the previous, just to seem relatively fair (although his taste still needed some molding), and was ready to get back to my regular flow.

I pushed my headphones back down around my neck. "That's not gonna stop you from asking it."

"You're right." He smiled this half-smile that he did too often and leaned towards me. I wanted to lean away or push him back out of my personal bubble, but I was frozen by his gaze- held in place by his sudden intensity. "Why don't you like me?"

Why didn't I like him? Really? That's what he was going to go with. Honestly, I could have laughed in his face right then. There was no way for me to explain to him that my lack of skills in the way of conversation had nothing to do with him, but rather the way I had learned to cope. Keep your head down and your mouth shut, I'd learned. It was easier that way. It was easier to keep people out than opening your world to them only to have it shatter once they're gone. I knew that pain all too well. And I didn't have time for it.

"I already told you. You've infiltrated my holy ground, Peeta." I finally mustered the will to lean back in my chair and put my headphones back on. He reached over and gently eased them back down. I pretended that the shiver I felt then was from the chill in the booth and not the way his fingers briefly grazed my neck. "What do you think you're doing?" I snapped.

His hand lingered for a moment too long before he leaned back in his chair as well. "I'm going to make you like me, Katniss Everdeen. If it's the last thing I do."

This was the moment when Annie would have urged me to be honest with him. She would tell me to say that I didn't have any ill will and that I really hoped this entire arrangement could work out. AC was grossly sentimental like that. But every time I opened my mouth to speak, I could only manage snippy sentences and sarcastic puns. Even when I'd been genuinely interested in what he'd been saying earlier about driving campus busses, I made the conscious effort to disengage. It was too easy to get lost in his carefree smiles and honest temperament.

Peeta Mellark was the type to creep into your heart and make a home there.

Once again, I couldn't have that.

So I was determined to keep him at arm's length. Which is what I had tried to explain to Annie over coffee the next morning. Her outrage was palpable. "Kat, you trouble my soul." Annie was the type to use phrases like 'trouble my soul' and be completely serious about it. It was a look that only worked for her. "I don't understand why you can't just work with him and be at least cordial about it."

I blew into my beverage, which had yet to cool. "Annie…"

"It sounds to me like you like him."

My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. "What do you mean? I don't like him! I don't even know him!"

"I meant as a human being, Katniss. It is okay to not dislike anyone that isn't me, Madge, Jo or Gale, you know?" I willed myself to calm down. I was getting really worked up for no reason. Annie wasn't the type to suggest any innuendo. She legitimately meant that I should just be nice to my coworker for the sake of the thing. "Maybe you two could spend some time together outside of the station, yeah? Become friends even."

It took a lot for me not to immediately dismiss her idealistic suggestions right off the bat. Peeta and me couldn't be friends, there was just no way. He didn't get me and I didn't have the patience to sift through the surface of his privileged existence. The only way he could be as nice as he was all of the time was because he had no idea what it meant to struggle. "Alright Annie, I'll definitely think about it."

"Well, here comes your chance. He's on his way over right now." She giggled. I turned around quickly and noticed Peeta and Finnick walking in our direction. We had already made eye contact, so there was no way I could escape without it being painfully obvious. I just gripped my cup and braced for the moment of impact. "Hello, boys! What a nice surprise. We were just talking about you."

Finn, as usual, was the first to pipe up. "My, my, quite a compliment to be in the thoughts of such a beautiful woman." He remarked, oozing even more charm than usual. Annie had that effect on men, but this guy was the worst. He must have had it pretty bad for her. "Which reminds me, I put hid some of your favorite desserts this morning in the back, just in case you wanted to-"

"Oh, I would absolutely love some! Peeta, feel free to steal my seat while I'm gone, I think Katniss would like to speak with you, anyways. Finnick, shall we?" Finn extended his elbow to her as she looped her arm through his. Peeta casually slid into her seat and tossed his rag over his shoulder.

I wanted to throw up.

My nerves didn't make any sense, other than my natural disinclination to speak. We spent every night together for goodness sakes. "I uh, Annie um... So you're friends with that guy?" I finally managed to spit out. Peeta looked surprised as though he was expecting me to say something else.

"Yeah, Finn's my best friend." He broke into that charismatic half-smile of his. "And between me and you, I think he has a crush on your friend. He doesn't usually act like this."

"You mean like a blatant flirt?" I had finally found my tongue.

He laughed, "Well no, flirting is actually his thing. But he seems especially sweet on her." He reached up and scratched the back of his neck nervously. "So Annie said you had something to talk to me about..?"

Danggit, Annie. "Yeah, she was just saying that she thinks it would help the show if we hung out with each other outside of work.. It uh, would probably be good for, you know, like, our on air chemistry and overall flow." I had no idea what I was saying. While I normally wasn't good with words, today, with this cute, blue-eyed hassle sitting across the table from me, I just couldn't gather my wits.

His eyebrows were at his hairline in shock. "Wow, yeah, that'd be great. I just uh, well, what would you like to do?" I wanted to slap that look of surprise off of his face. Yeah, I could be social too, buddy.

"My friend's band is playing tonight at the Elmore downtown. I'm going anyways and figured since you like music it would be good. We'd have to leave a little early to make it back to the studio in time though, so-" He held up his hands and cut me off midsentence.

He grinned back at me, and I couldn't fight off the smile that had found residence on my own face. "I'll absolutely be there. I can't wait." I almost started speaking again when his eyes drifted off behind me. "Oh jeez, my manager is giving me the death stare, so I'm guessing my break is over. But hey, I'll see you tonight, okay?" He jogged off towards the kitchen, probably to warn his friend about their impending doom.

And I could have sworn I missed him when he was gone.


	4. Smile Like You Mean It

**Peeta POV**

Style of the Day: Dark wash jeans, grey thermal, flannel button up, black chucks

Song of the Moment: Smile Like You Mean It by The Killers

When I had fallen asleep the night before, I couldn't have imagined the day that would follow. Katniss actually choosing to speak to me and then using that conversation to invite me to _spend time together_. It all seemed very surreal. So surreal, in fact, that I had finally broken to Finnick.

"You mean to tell me that the girl from you've been so messed up about has been coming into our coffee shop with her hot friend every day and you haven't told me? That's like, best friend/bro code violation numero uno, muchacho!" I didn't tell him that she was also the girl that I was working with at the station every night. Katniss had expressly forbidden me to share that information with anyone and I definitely wasn't in the place to go against her wishes.

We were on our way to the show; Finn happily chattering about how he felt him and Annie were really hitting it off. I, on the other hand, was busy trying to remember how one foot was supposed to go in front of the other when you took walked. "Peet, dude, I said have you told her how you feel about her yet?"

I must have zoned out when Finn attempted to rein me back in. "I haven't.. at least, not yet. But hey, maybe things will go well enough tonight that I could elude to it." I shrugged. Why push my luck? It was miracle enough that she had even extended me this invitation after blatantly stating her disregard for me the previous evening.

"Well, I'm telling Annie that I'm in love with her… If she's here, I mean. I seriously hope she comes. What if she doesn't come, man?" Finnick panicked. I would have laughed if I didn't understand that feeling. What if Katniss decided not to show? What if she back out at the last minute and was just too blasé to tell me?

I patted Finn on the back. "She'll be here, dude. Don't sweat it. Katniss made it seem like it was a group thing, so I'm sure Annie is coming too." We stepped up to the venue, a grungy place that admitted anyone who looked like they belonged. The Elmore was notorious for not carding you as long as you didn't look like a frat bag or a lush. Inside, the crowd had already started to gather, the small space pushing capacity. The lights were drawn pretty low and the bass from the speakers was pumping through the place. I couldn't see or hear anything.

I jumped at the feeling of a small hand on my lower back. I turned to see Katniss standing barely an inch away from me. "I'm glad you could make it!" She was shouting over the music, and I still struggled to hear her. The crowd jostled us together so her lips nearly touched my ear. "I was worried you wouldn't come!" I moved my face just far enough away to look into her eyes. She never failed to leave me speechless.

"Of course I came! You invited me!" I smiled down at her, willing her to understand everything that I was saying and all of the things I couldn't manage yet. Anytime you call me I would be there, no questions asked.

She brushed her hair back from her face and smiled shyly back at me. "Well, come on! My friends are saving us spots up front!" I looked around to see if I spotted Finn, but he was nowhere to be found. When Katniss' dainty hand found mine and pulled me through the crowd, I didn't have the resolve to search for him.

As she tugged us both towards the front, I took the moment to examine her outfit. She was wearing a pair of high waisted jeans, that did her every favor in the world with a Shepard Ferry "Obey" crop top, showing more skin than I'd ever seen her expose. Her brown locks were carelessly tousled and cascading down her back. And as her rhythm suggested, when we found our spot near the opening act, she was in her element. Even her self-assured attitude in the booth was no match for this version of Katniss.

I'd never seen her be so open and willing to let go.

And I definitely wasn't going to start complaining about it. "Peeta, I want you to meet some people!" Katniss turned to me as the applause died down. The first band was finished with their set and we were getting a moment of relative quiet before the next act. "This is Johanna, Jo this is Peeta, my co-host." A dark-haired girl that I hadn't noticed before stepped into view. She looked me over before making any moves to introduce herself.

"Hey, nice to meet you, I'm Peeta Mell-"

She cut me off with the wave of her heavily ring-adorned fingers. "Mess with Brainless and you lose your balls, got it?" I didn't know how to respond, but Katniss jumped in before I had to say anything.

"Jesus, Jo! Give him a break!" Johanna snorted and picked up the glass that she'd set on the stage, tossing back the remainder of its contents. Katniss turned back to me. "I'm sorry about her. We try to keep her in her cage as often as possible. Hopefully Madge is easier to deal with tonight." I didn't know who she was talking about, but I didn't have time to ask. The next band was taking the stage. Katniss turned back to me again. "That's my friend Gale back there. He's the drummer."

I looked to where she was pointing and sucked in a breath. This was the friend she was talking about? I was hoping for a woman, preferably a lead singer with a delicate voice. The guy who stood before the audience now, adjusting his cymbals definitely didn't fit that description. He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome, not to mention a musician. No wonder Katniss was in such a great mood tonight. We were here to see her boyfriend perform.

The lead singer stepped up to the mic, yelling at us to get ready for a mind-blowing show, and Katniss was completely immersed. Their set started and they sounded great. Gale was admittedly an amazing drummer.

All the more reason for me to hate the guy.

Even the situation wasn't enough to take away from the fact that Katniss Everdeen was dancing with me. The limited space of the venue didn't allow for much room, so probably without realizing it, her back was flush against my front and she didn't seem to be making any moves to get away. Maybe it was the situation that was giving me the sudden burst of confidence; the fact that she wasn't closing herself off like usual, seeing her experience the music in a new way. But without pause, my right hand found her waist, and there was no longer any question that we were, in fact, dancing together.

When the song ended, so did we.

The set was over and Katniss and me were destined to resume our roles: the overly enthusiast artist and the moody girl with the grey eyes. "I uh, I um.. You want to go backstage?" She mumbled out. I simply nodded and followed her lead. She hadn't taken my hand this time.

We navigated our way through the crowd, weaving through throes of people who were still lost in the after-effects of pop punk. Backstage wasn't much different. The members of all of the bands that had performed were strewn about on various couches and chairs, drinking or smoking something. Katniss' friends Johanna and Madge had already made their way back here, it seemed, and were talking to some guys from the opening act. Katniss made a beeline for Gale, who was packing up his kit.

"Gale!" Her enthusiasm from earlier in the evening had returned at the sight of her boyfriend. "Great set. Even better than the performance at Leeno's last month, and you guys didn't think you could top that." Gale pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. She playfully pushed him back and smiled. "This is Peeta. We work together at the station."

For the first time in this interaction, Gale acknowledged my presence. "Hey, you guys were pretty great tonight." He grunted his approval and turned back to Katniss.

"Can I speak to you alone, _Catnip_?" It seemed to me like he was putting emphasis on the obvious pet name. Katniss turned back to me with rolled eyes and followed him out the side door. Elmore's kept the door propped open for the extra ventilation, so it wasn't hard to decipher the voices outside, even as they attempted quiet. "Did you seriously bring this top 1% asshole to my show? This is _our _thing, Katniss!"

"Calm down, Gale! We work together. Why do you always get so worked up about this stuff? It's no big deal." I heard a can skitter across the concrete outside.

"No big deal? I saw the way you were dancing with him, Katniss, that's not 'no big deal'!" I turned to head out from backstage and hopefully find Finn somewhere, quickly. As much as I had enjoyed tonight, I didn't want to hear Katniss explain to the guy she loved that I meant nothing to her. I thought I had come to terms with our strange relationship, but I definitely wasn't that progressive.

I found Finn making out with Annie near the bar. "Peet, buddy, I told her that I loved her!" He broke away and declared to me. Annie merely giggled and adjusted her jacket from where Finnick had obviously disheveled it.

Even I couldn't help but laugh. "Congrats, my friend. I'm glad to here that things are looking up." I scratched the back of my neck. "But hey, I'm gonna head over to the studio a little early so don't wait up." I left my happy-go-lucky best friend to his new love interest and hurried out the door.

There was nothing left for me to do.

**Katniss POV**

Style of the Day: crop top, hunting jacket, high waist jeans, combat boots

Song of the Moment: Whatever is blaring from the walls of the club

He was gone.

I legitimately couldn't believe that Peeta had just up and left while I was gone to speak with Gale. Stupid Gale. I still couldn't get over how childish he was behaving for no reason. I had come to his show and actually _brought more people. _What could be better than that? He was being his usual, stubborn self- only this time it rubbed me the wrong way.

Gale and I were both "townies"; the term affectionately placed on people who both attended State and had grown up in Panem County, the town in which it resided.

Outside of the university, the town was a pretty dismal place to grow up. Most of us had working class parents who were barely scraping by, biding their time in blue-collar jobs. My mother and Gale's both acted as housekeepers to the rare Panem elite, trying to make ends meet while our dads were out on the road (his searching for a job that would pay the bills and my dad performing at low-paying dive bars). From birth (although born nearly four years apart), we were destined to become best friends.

And while he'd always been fiercely protective of me and Prim, he had never lashed out on me like he did tonight.

After our little spat, I hurriedly grabbed my jacket from the table we'd occupied earlier and looked around for Peeta. It took running into his red-headed friend making out with Annie to find out he had left the club moments a few minutes before. I dashed out the front door and was at first taken aback at how far he had managed to get. I jogged for a few minutes before I finally caught up to him. I tugged a headphone out of his ear when I finally reached him.

"Hey, you took off in kind of a hurry back there." I commented breathlessly. It had obviously been a while since I'd had time to work out. He offered me a halfhearted smile in return.

"Yeah, sorry, it seemed like you and Gale were pretty busy, so I just decided to head out." His normal positivity wasn't reaching his eyes and I just didn't understand why. Yeah, Gale had been kind of a jerk about the whole thing, but even if I didn't want to admit it, tonight had been fun. The thrill of live music would never cease to enrapture me. It was the one passion instilled in me from birth that life hadn't managed to dissipate.

I hadn't let myself truly enjoy being in a moment for a very long time. I thought Peeta had been enjoying himself too.

Just goes to show how good I am at reading people.

We fell in step with one another, seemingly at a loss for words. "Listen, I'm really sorry for that back there. I don't know what his problem is." He looked down at me, gently.

"If you were my girlfriend, I probably wouldn't be happy about you bringing another guy to my show either. So I understand where he's coming from." His GIRLFRIEND? "I mean, we _were _dancing together and everything so I-"

I stopped walking. "Wait a second. You think Gale is my _boyfriend_?" I burst into laughter and suddenly I couldn't control myself. I was bent over at the waist with tears streaming down my face. The absolute absurdity of that suggestion!

"Katniss," Peeta scratched his neck, "I'm gonna be honest and say that I don't know what is so funny about this situation. I mean, I feel like a total heel for getting cozy with somebody else's girlfriend…" I gathered myself and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Peeta, Gale is definitely _not _my boyfriend. Like I said when I introduced the two of you, we're just buddies. We grew up together. We might as well be siblings." A flicker of an emotion that I couldn't quite place came across his face before his usual bright smile arose. I knew then that I didn't want him to be weird like that again. I wanted this version of Peeta- the happy, positive and annoyingly adorable one. "You weren't going to say goodbye, though? That's a pretty douchebaggy move, Mellark."

He laughed loudly. "Hey, I said sorry about that. I wasn't ready for Mr. Tall Dark to give me what was coming to me." I shook my head and smiled. "No seriously, he has to be what? 6' 5", 6'6"?"

"6'6.5" when he stands up straight." I corrected. "He would have played basketball in college if he hadn't had to start working full time." I added thoughtfully. We were casually strolling through campus, our steps illuminated by the many streetlamps.

"So he didn't end up going to school?" He asked carefully. I was beginning to notice that Peeta was good about not pushing subjects any further than I was willing to take them. He was considerate, which went a long way in my book.

"Nope. He went to work at the factory right after he graduated. With his dad gone-" I stopped myself midsentence. I couldn't believe that I was about to talk about the accident. Even Gale and I never spoke about it. "Um, his family just needed the money and he didn't have time to go to college. But he had been offered scholarships everywhere; Ohio State, Penn, Michigan… He was quite the athlete." Even though Gale had pissed me off earlier, I was still insanely proud of him. Although he had opted not to go, he would have been the best. No one could touch him when he was in high school.

"You really love him, huh? You have to see why I got it all mixed up earlier." He playfully elbowed my ribs and I giggled. I _actually _giggled. "They were great though, I must say. And you," He grinned, "are a beautiful dancer."

I was blushing. I knew that if I didn't deflect quickly, I would mess something up. "And I'm an even better runner. Race you to the station- bet you can't catch me!" I took off before he could argue. I heard him take off behind me, the sound of his ridiculously loud footsteps bouncing off of every still surface around us. I reached the front door an entire minute before he reached me.

Something about the pit in my stomach told me that being caught by Peeta Mellark would have been even more satisfying than beating him.

**Peeta POV**

Style of the Day: jeans, red hi-top chucks, The Endless Summer bro tank, zip up hoodie and black beanie

Song of the Moment: Alone Together by Fall Out Boy

Standing with her hands on her hips, attempting to catch her breath, face flushed from sprinting- Katniss was more beautiful than I'd ever seen her.

I couldn't place whether it was the way the streetlights illuminated her olive skin, or simply watching her crooked smile spread across her face. Whatever it was, I wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever, because if there was one thing I had realized during my time with her, it was that those good moments don't last for long.

"You are way faster than I pegged you for." I gasped once I reached the door, where she had straightened herself back out, smirking.

"I can't believe you're still underestimating me, Mellark. You'll learn."

And in the next two weeks, boy did I start to learn. Something had changed between us. It seemed like after the night at the show we were actually beginning to mimic a functional pair of co-hosts. We bantered on air, she genuinely laughed at my corny jokes and didn't scoot away when we were both leaning towards the same mic.

And although Katniss would fight to her death before admitting it, she was enjoying sharing the booth with me. We'd spend two hours a night barely sitting two feet away from each other in the miniscule sound booth, me barely even wanting to leave for the bathroom, in fear that in the minute it would take me to pee, everything would go back to the way it was before.

This paranoia wasn't completely unfounded.

When you spend years admiring someone from afar -only to be dismissed once you get close enough for you to matter- it takes some getting accustomed to their relatively open arms.

I found myself spending every day in classes and at work just itching to get back to the station to se Katniss (because although that first night had been fun, we hadn't hung out again). My time in the studio was spent painting her reluctant smiles and crossed arms, in much greater accuracy, now that my subject was so close. Haymitch hated the direction my most recent collection of work was going, though, and had no qualms about admitting it one evening.

He had emerged from his office, slowly and quietly, like he always did, slapping a hand on my shoulder and snapping me out of my reverie. "Another one, Mellark? I swear, every night I come out praying you'll go back to your landscapes, and every night I see this girl…"

I set my brush down and turned to Haymitch. Who, telling by his breath, had spent tonight drinking some malt liquor in his office (some habits of southern men died hard). "Ah, give me a break, Abernathy."

He sighed in annoyance. "You thought about what you're submitting to the gallery, boy?" I ran a hand through my hair in annoyance. Haymitch had been bringing up this gallery since the summertime and I had always respectfully declined. Every two years, the Heavensbee Fellowship offered 12 university students from across the country the opportunity to study abroad (all expenses paid), learning the tools of the trade from the best in the world. These students are selected via an anonymous gallery; where anonymous they are scored by anonymous judges and then anonymously notified about whether or not they've been accepted into the program weeks later.

It was one of the foremost honors in higher education for a young artist.

There was no way that I was going to get it. "I already told you that I'm not interested in submitting my work. There are too many people too much better than me entering. Not to mention, I don't have nearly enough new pieces to be a contender in a months time."

"You have got to be kidding me! With all of those canvases of the girl in my office, you have enough to fill an entire gallery on your own." He replied gruffly. "I don't understand you, kid. You love this girl, you paint this girl, enter your work of the girl." He didn't wait for any more protests from me before disappearing back into his office.

I looked back at my work and considered his argument again. I waved it away soon after.

Some things were just too intimate to share.

**Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. The last section is just a bit of a prelude of what's to come. As usual, reviews are highly encouraged (and most certainly welcome)!**


	5. Hang It Up

***Disclaimer: I do NOT speak fluent Spanish. Just keep that in mind.**

**Now onto the fun stuff.**

**Katniss POV**

Style of the Day: Black skinny jeans, vintage Batman baseball tee, black chucks

Song of the Moment: Hang it Up by The Ting Tings

Revelation: Peeta Mellark was actually really funny.

We were playing another round of twenty questions, the game that we'd been killing time with for a few nights now, in between songs. I couldn't remember why I hadn't noticed until that moment, but during our time in the booth, I was laughing more than I had in a long time. It was just something about the way he told stories. He could spin even the most dismal of life events into something beautiful. And the more time I spent with him, the more I found myself attempting to do it too.

It was disconcerting.

But the listeners were eating it up, apparently. The station manager hadn't been able to contain her excitement when I came into the studio to pick up my check earlier in the week. "Katniss, you're not going to believe this!"

I had purposely slipped in through the back door (as usual) to avoid being run into. I wasn't in the mood for her positivity. Not that I was ever in the mood for anyone's pep, but today, I just couldn't handle the likes of Reilly Tate. "No, Reilly, I probably won't." I deadpanned, dropping my hand from the doorknob. And I was so close too.

"Oh, you're so silly. Listen," she lowered her voice marginally "I know you don't want anybody to know it's you still, but the audience is loving you and Peeta. They'd love him even more if they could see him, I'm sure." She elbowed me in the ribs in that way girls do sometimes. I've never understood that. "Anyways, we got the numbers back from the past month and your show's have gone up 35% from your monthly average. That's amazing!"

Even I couldn't help but be pleased at that news. Mellark wasn't a thorn in my side like I'd originally pegged him. He was actually helping make the thing I cared most about marginally _better_. He definitely deserved some credit for that.

Add that to the list of things I liked about him.

"No seriously, Rye broke three of my bones before I turned ten. It's a surprise I even ended up wrestling. I should have been the boy in the plastic bubble." I unfolded and refolded my legs in my chair and balanced my head on my fists.

"Why'd you end up quitting wrestling anyways? You were pretty good."

Peeta's smile grew incredulous. "Yeah, I was alright. How'd you know? I never pegged you for the type who follows division one athletics." I rolled my eyes and cued the next song on air without pause.

He had pegged me right in a sense. I followed every sport _except _for wrestling. After spending my entire childhood in the stands with my dad and Gale's watching him play whatever sport fell into that particular season, I had my finger on the pulse of athletics. I remember researching schools with him as a freshman, figuring out which offer would be his best fit. I had learned every team's stats, starting lineup and coach's history by the time I should have been learned how to put on makeup or fix my hair (in something other than a braid).

"How many times do I have to tell you not to underestimate me? We were in the same music course freshman year remember? Our professor used to make a huge production out of your numbers every class. So it's not like I had much of a choice."

He laughed. "Alright, fair enough. So what is your sordid tale of bones broken?"

"Oh you know, the usual, bike crashes, sledding incidents… Nothing really all that interesting." I brushed off the question. My last broken bone was something I just wasn't all that up to getting into today. Not when everything was going so well with the show, with Peeta. Why ruin it with real life?

"You know, Katniss, you're the worst liar I've ever met. You don't usually do it, but when you try, it's not at all believable." He offered me a halfhearted smile before going on air. "Hello out there, for all of you just tuning in, that was Gold in the Air of Summer by Kings of Convenience. And now, in keeping with the laid back rhythm of fall, we're starting in on our final playlist of the night."

He muted our mics and turned back to face me. "What I'm saying is, I don't know what it is you're hiding, but if and when you ever decide to talk about it, I'll be ready to listen." He slid his chair away from the soundboard. "Alright, I'm gonna take a quick bathroom break. I've been holding this in all night."

Nobody had ever offered me that before. Sure, we got some casseroles and a couple grief counselors offered to us by the school system, but no one to really listen without casting the pity vote. So instead of dealing with it, I just shut my mouth, put my head down and kept on moving. If for no other reason than Prim needed me to be strong. And since mother had chosen to check out, even after her recovery, I wasn't left with much of an option.

Something in his voice at that moment set something off in me, though. The way he was gently prodding me to open up without being abrasive, or even in his tone, the complete tender resolve without pity. He really and genuinely was trying to get me to let him in. The boy with the blue eyes and way with words was wearing me down.

"Peeta, wait," I barely choked out and grabbed his wrist. "I want to talk about it."

**Peeta POV**

Style of the Day: Retro Minecraft crew neck, black boot cut jeans and slip on Vans

Song of the Moment: Broad Ripple is Burning by Margot and the Nuclear So and So's

Well, I wasn't expecting that.

When I told Katniss that I'd be here for her if she ever needed me, I had meant it with every fiber of my being. It was just completely out of character for her to want to share anything other than the basics about her life. I had learned that Katniss had grown up in Panem County and was majoring in Music Technology and Recording (and was better at mixing sound than anyone I'd ever met). She had a little sister named Prim who she was financially supporting with her numerous jobs (but would never complain about).

And she was absolutely, undoubtedly the most dedicated person I had ever met.

"Well lucky for you, we happen to have a pure, unadulterated five song window." I slid back down into my chair and immediately tried to forget about the bladder that had seemed fit to burst just seconds before.

Her lips quirked up in a pseudo-smile and she directed her attention out of the window. "So, I mean, I don't even know why I uh, feel like telling you this. You know by now that um, opening up isn't really in my nature." Her eyes met mine for a moment before breaking away again. "It's just that, well, nobody has ever asked me like you just did."

"So just, you know, don't get all judgey on me, okay?" I nodded wordlessly, silently urging her to continue. And when she started, she didn't stop. The words kept tumbling forth like she had been bottling them up for ages and they were bound to spill over eventually. I wanted her to know that no matter what had happened in the past the future could be good again. That she was busy _making it good again._ I wanted to tell her that she didn't have to be strong all of the time. That she had people who loved her and would hold her up through any and everything. I wanted to wipe away the few tears that had somehow managed to spill over while she was talking. I wanted to hold her.

So I did.

And she let me. Her thin arms found purchase around my neck and her damp face was buried into the space there. I pulled her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her waist. I didn't know what I was saying, but I never once stopped whispering to her. Maybe I was saying all of those things I had been thinking but never dared utter. Whatever it was, she didn't leave our embrace. Not even when the playlist had finally run out. Not even when I had hastily signed off for the both of us. She remained in my arms. At some point she had stopped crying, those tears I'd never thought anyone would see. "Peeta?"

Katniss leaned back just enough for her grey eyes to lock me into place. The studio was kept dim except for the small desk lamp, and streetlight overflow through the window; the two lone tear streaks reflecting from her cheeks. I was held by her stare. There was something different in it than usual- vulnerability, perhaps? "Yeah, Katniss?"

"Let's stay here for a minute, okay? I, I'm just not ready to go yet."

I would have held her forever if she asked.

**Katniss POV**

Style of the Day: sweatpants, Panem High Varsity Basketball hoodie, Snuggie

Song of the Moment: MLK by U2

I decided to take a personal day.

Which was completely out of character and had certainly never been done before, but if there was a day worth taking a break from- it was today. And in all fairness, my one Friday class had been cancelled, so I might as well have been resigned to my pullout couch/bed for 24 hours. I had completely made a fool out of myself in front of Peeta the night before at the station –blubbering about my past and confiding in him like some little child- and I just couldn't bear to be seen or heard from. I was seriously considering even calling in for the show tonight (for the first time in history).

Madge and Jo didn't have Friday classes either, so of course they were toiling about the apartment all morning, making it that much harder for me to wallow in my self-pity and embarrassment. "Katniss, what is going on with you today? You look just awful. And I'm sorry honey, but when is the last time you washed your hair?" Madge came over and fussed with my appearance after I finished yet another daytime soap.

"Leave me alone, Madge. I told you that I was sick." She snatched the remote out of my hands and clicked off the TV. "I was watching that!"

"Yes, and I was asking you a question, Little Miss." I took my remote control and turned the television back on my Spanish-language daytime drama.

"You know I don't like it when you turn off my stories, Madge. Look! You made me miss whether or not Ronaldo actually killed his abuelo for the inheritance." Madge rolled her eyes and plopped down on the coffee table directly in front of me, completely obscuring my line of vision. Not that it mattered now, anyways. I already missed the best part. "God, Madge, you're not going to let this one go are you?"

"Katniss, you literally are the healthiest person I know. You eat fruits and vegetables, take vitamins every morning, and never EVER miss classes. I know that there's something going on with you." I huffed dramatically and fell back on the pillow. I hated it when she was right. "Did something happen at work last night?"

My face betrayed me before I could deny it. "Oh my God, Katniss Everdeen and pretty boy, Peeta Mellark officially have a _thing_! You are definitely not leaving without sharing every detail." There was no use in keeping it from her. She was definitely going to get it out of me eventually (or ruin every one of my favorite shows until I did). So I told her everything.

Sparing no details, pulling no punches, I gave her the entire spiel I had given Peeta- from beginning to end. No one outside of Gale had ever known what had happened that year, not even my closest friends. And here I was, telling two people in less than 24 hours. Peeta really was starting to rub off on me. "Okay so um, we'll get to all of the heavy stuff later –which I can't believe you've managed to keep from us all this time, but that's fine, we'll address it another time. But you pretty much just made 7 gazillion milestones in one night! This is freaking huge. You never do anything like that, Kat. I don't know why you're so embarrassed."

"Because, you just don't get it! I'm weak now. It doesn't matter what I say or do, how good I am at my job- he's never going to be able to look past the fact that at my core, I am just as bad as every other overly emotional girl out there. No offense."

"None taken."

"Being strong is all I have, Madge. It's who I am and who I've always been. When I don't have that anymore, I feel like I wouldn't even recognize myself." I rubbed my temples. All of this had given me a migraine for the ages.

Madge's small hand rubbed my shoulder gently. "That's where you're wrong. Just because you're honest about your emotions doesn't make you weak or any less of a powerhouse, you know." She stood and grabbed her purse from the floor. "I have to head out to buy some conditioner. You want me to pick you up anything while I'm gone? A comb, maybe?"

I laughed and throw the decorative pillow at her that Annie had embroidered for us last spring. If I had bothered to look in a mirror today, I probably would have said the same thing, though. I hadn't bothered to get dressed this morning, instead opting to wear my unwashed sweatpants and Gale's old hoodie. My hair was piled atop my head in the messiest of all messy-buns, and I had barely even bothered to brush my teeth. Perhaps I was taking the bum day a step too far.

"Whatever!" I flipped a middle finger in her direction (just for good measure) as she stuck her tongue out and opened the door.

Madge nearly choked as she stepped outside. "I uh, oh well look at that. Didn't know we'd be having company today. My, look at this weather! Pip pip and cheerio, partners." I craned my neck to see what had my roommate speaking the awful British accent she only broke into when she was nervous.

We had company.

"Uh hey," he scratched his neck in the doorway, "I hope this isn't a bad time for you, but Annie said you weren't feeling well?" My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. And if Madge's not-so-quiet snickers on the way to her car were any indication, I wasn't doing a great job of hiding my shock.

Since I was nothing if not a gracious host, I jumped up from the couch, got my feet tangled in my Snuggie and nearly faceplanted before finally reaching Peeta. The vague amusement on his face did nothing for my already delicate sensitivities.

"Oh sure, Mellark, just laugh at the sick girl." I rolled my eyes and fell back onto the couch (haphazardly pushing last night's Chinese food cartons out of the way so he'd have somewhere to sit). Peeta kicked the door shut with his heel and flopped down on the couch. I guess he was good at making himself comfortable wherever he went.

He didn't seem to notice the mess surrounding him, and I most definitely didn't plan on bringing up the pity party that he had just walked in on. For the first time since seeing him appear in the doorway, I noticed that he had a brown bag in his hands. "I didn't know that you were into telenovelas! Veía éstas todos los días cuando Finn y yo estábamos robando cable de nuestros vecinos, y sólo tenían tres canales."

I burst into laughter. Of _course _he could speak fluent Spanish! This guy was chalk full of surprises. "Peeta, I have no idea what you just said. I don't speak the language, the acting is what draws me in." I pointed at the bag. "What's in the bag, señor?" He blushed in realization and looked down at the bag in his hand.

"Yeah uh, like I said, Annie stopped into the shop while I was working this morning and said that you were sick. And judging by the Snuggie, I'm going to go ahead and say that's accurate." We both chuckled. I mean, he definitely had a point. "I know that you always get these when you come in, so I baked you some extra when I was on my shift this morning. I hope you don't mind me stopping by with some sustenance."

The warm feeling that had been creeping over me when I was around Peeta began to chip away at my initial discomfort. Even though my friends were great, I hadn't had anyone bother to take care of me since my dad was around. Or I had pushed away the help enough times that people eventually stopped asking. This guy, though, had somehow broken through. And even though I usually took Madge's suggestions with caution, it did feel good to be cared for- even if it was a gesture as small as noticing my favorite food and bringing it by my apartment.

I even surprised myself when I reached out and took the bag from him. The smell from the fresh pastries wafted into my nostrils. "Gah, I love these things!" I was nearly salivating. "Thank you!" I threw my arms around him without giving it a second thought. It took him a second to realize that I wasn't attacking him before he relaxed into my awkward embrace.

I wanted to keep holding on. Just like I had last night. But I knew that the reaction would be the same. Peeta would give me that look of complete understanding and compassion; I'd fall apart under his gaze and then feel like a complete fool.

When we finally broke apart, Peeta's beautiful blue eyes locked into mine. Instead of the look from last night, though, I was faced with something else- something remotely sensual. And I couldn't tell you how it happened or who started it; but sitting on my convertible sofa, tangled in my ratty old blanket with sleeves- we were kissing.

Greasy hair and all.

**So alright, sorry about the wait, everybody. This chapter is a bit all over the place… but we did get some fluffy Everlark in there! Which is what matters, right? Anyways, leave reviews; let me know what you think.**


	6. Turning Page

**I realized for the end of the last chapter, everyone needed to be listening to "This Magic Moment" by The Drifters. If you didn't have feels before, try it with that as the soundtrack. Okay, enough of the Everlark fluff (just kidding, never enough Everlark fluff)!**

"_Nothing prepared me for what the privilege of being yours would do." _

–_Sleeping at Last, Turning Page._

**Peeta POV**

Style of the Day: Bonnaroo 2012 t-shirt, grey cardigan, jeans and black chucks

Song of the Moment: Turning Page by Sleeping at Last

I've always been a dreamer.

If there was one thing that you could count on Peeta Mellark for, it was my unprecedented ability to attempt positivity in nearly every circumstance. In all honesty, it was probably pretty annoying to have to deal with sometimes. You know, with the smiling and the corny jokes and whatnot. But for me, it was the only way I've ever known to cope. A grin and bear it type of deal, I supposed. And while I hated it as a kid, it was something that had always set me a part from the other members of my family.

Aside from my father, of course.

He had taught me the way of making lemons out of lemonade. Finding beauty amidst destruction was his specialty, one of the things that I'd loved most about the man. He was, in fact, the person who pushed me to do my art in the first place.

We had realized pretty early on in my middle school years that I had a penchant for sleeper holds, probably a testament to all of the fights with my older brothers Rye and Proja growing up. Regardless, it demanded quite a bit of attention from the high school coaches and eventually college scouts. So by my senior year, I had a pretty decent selection of division one schools to choose my full ride from. If nothing else, wrestling had paid the bills, even after it stopped being fun.

It was the studio art program at Templesmith University that had sold me, though. Yeah, their team record was less impressive, but at least I'd have a degree that was respected in the art world when I graduated. My mother, of course, hadn't seen it the same way.

"You're choosing a _state school _after all of the money that Notre Dame and Northwestern threw at you?" She had shouted when I told my parents of my decision. "And to major in art no less! You are just as dumb as I thought you were. And here I was thinking that this wresting thing was going to actually help you amount to something."

It wasn't pretty, but I hadn't expected anything less. From that point on -although my dad tried to rule otherwise- I was forbidden access to whatever college savings they had for me. I was pretty much left with whatever I had managed to hold on to from my part-time hours at the bakery.

So when I lost my wrestling scholarship due to a bum leg injury, I had to rely solely on odd jobs and art sales to make ends meet. Not that I was willing to complain about it, though. I could have had it much worse. I could have had to deal with the cards that Katniss had been dealt, which I was sure I didn't have the mental fortitude to comply with.

Katniss.

I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since leaving her apartment last night (not that I'd been able to forget her for the past two years of my undergrad or anything). I had walked her back to her place after the show, something I had taken to doing lately. She said that Gale had been moved to working nights, so she was stuck heading home alone these days. I obviously jumped on that opportunity. And after our time together earlier that afternoon, I was in no position to deny my attraction to her.

I still hadn't fully processed what had happened on her couch. First we were talking about cheese buns and then-

Well, who knew who started what, but I had actually been kissing Katniss Everdeen. And it was everything that I had thought it would be and then some. The way her slightly chapped lips had found mine in confidence -the way she did everything- and then slowed to reveal a side to her that I'd only seen once before; in the studio, when she was talking about her dad.

"Peeta, I'm going to be honest with you, this isn't really my strong suit." She had whispered, pulling back and meeting my eyes. "I mean like," She looked anywhere in the room but at me, her arms slipping from my neck. "I know I'm not as _whatever _as other girls but-"

I cupped her cheek and cut her off with another kiss, more self-assured than the first. I held her there before parting just enough to speak. I knew what she must have seen in me that moment was pure and utter disbelief.

"Katniss Everdeen, you are _everything_."

And we stayed there, locked in that moment of honesty and awe.

Neither of us were really sure how to proceed -with caution, most certainly- but slightly confusing nonetheless. I just knew that I didn't want to lose her again. I didn't want to keep going in this circle where we'd make a breakthrough and have her retreat into herself immediately after. That's what had brought me there in the first place. When Annie had told me that she was "sick", I knew that I had to go see her. I had to make sure that the girl I had seen in the booth the night before; the one, who spoke honestly about her past and wept in my arms, had been real.

So I had run to her right after my shift (ever grateful for my open artists' schedule), looking to pull her back to me. And it was more worth it than any decision I could remember making. We stayed on her couch for the rest of the afternoon, watching crappy cable TV and laughing about our guilty music pleasures (mine is Linkin Park and hers are Creed and Simple Plan). It was both completely comfortable and surreal all in one. We'd even gotten a vegetarian (as per her request) pizza delivered and ate it together on her bed/couch.

It was all too good to be true.

So when we managed to make it through the show that night, stealing sideways glances at each other and bantering on air (and was I crazy or was Katniss Everdeen _flirting _with me?), I thought that it would be worth pushing my luck once we reached her door at the end of the night.

"Katniss, do you want to go somewhere with me next weekend?"

**Katniss POV**

Style of the Day: FDNY hoodie, knit infinity scarf, skinny jeans, black chucks

Song of the Moment: Say It, Just Say It by The Mowgli's

Well, he'd done it. He'd gone and done it.

Peeta Mellark had turned me into "that girl". That girl who can't manage a conversation without the unnatural urge to slip their crushes name in at some point. That girl who can't write in a notebook without doodling gross little cutesy doodles in the margins. That girl who counts down the moments until they get back to the guy they're interested in. And the worst part wasn't even any of those things.

It was the fact that I wasn't even upset about it.

For the first time in my life, I wanted somebody to want me back in the same way that I wanted them (err uh, really the first time that I had wanted anyone at all). It had all happened so fast. In the course of a few short weeks, I had gone from hating this guy that I barely knew to kissing him and then getting cozy for the rest of the afternoon on my convertible couch. It was all very strange and cliché.

And I just really didn't want to ruin it.

So I didn't call him every time I heard a song on shuffle that I knew he just _had _to listen to. And I didn't post a link to a commercial I knew he'd think was just hilarious on his Facebook wall when I found it on YouTube. And I most certainly didn't tell Jo or Madge or Annie or Gale Hawthorne when they prodded me for information about whatever _us _was turning into.

Instead, I just decided to keep things about us under wraps for a while... until I knew what was really happening, at least. At present, we were just two friends who had kissed a couple of times and hosted an anonymous radio show together every night. I was choosing to ignore the fact that we barely sat a foot away from each other in the booth now (and had at least one part of our bodies in constant contact).

Yeah, if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that some things were just too intimate to share.

So when he'd asked me on a date for the second time the following Thursday in the studio, I had to weigh a lot of pros and cons.

"I just have a lot of friends in this show and I'm going to support them. And sue me for wanting to show you off a little." Our pinkies were linked and aimlessly swinging between our chairs. I was finding it a little too hard to ignore the sensations emanating from where we touched to pay attention to what he was saying. "Everdeen, are you even listening to me?" He laughed lightly.

"Um yeah, of course I'm listening." I pulled my hand from his and crossed my arms over my chest. "You know how I feel about being too open about this whole thing. My own friends don't even know that I can tolerate you now." I rolled eyes and change some of the levels on the soundboard. I knew that it didn't make much sense, my desire for discreteness, but I wasn't willing to change anything just yet. "If you want to go, you should just do it. I wouldn't be much fun anyways. The only art I understand is pretty much confined to the business of this room."

He smirked and leaned towards me, placing both hands on the opposite sides of my chair, effectively trapping me beneath him. "What kind of art are we talking about here, Miss Everdeen? I've been told that I'm quite good at making beautiful things happen…" he leaned into me with a kiss. I had to resist the urge to laugh at his corny advances and smiled against his lips.

"Is that the best tool of persuasion you got, Mellark?" His laugh echoed through the booth as he fell back into his seat.

"Well, the reviews have been pretty positive from all of my previous suitors, so…" While I could tell by the glint in his eye that he was just kidding, I couldn't help the blush that was creeping up my neck at the thought of all of Peeta's previous girlfriends. Not that I fell into the girlfriend category or anything, but the idea of his abundance of potential experience filled me with jealousy. Or perhaps it was a case of misplaced embarrassment at my own inexperience. Either way, the concept upset me.

Why couldn't we both be on the same page with all of this?

I rolled my eyes, put my headphones back on and cued the next song on the playlist. Peeta gently slid them back off, pushing my stray bangs off of my face. "Hey, what's with the sudden sullen attitude?" He leaned his forehead against mine, offering me the sly smile that had somehow started to mellow me out. "You know I was just kidding, right? I'm not that great of an artist."

I laughed lightly. "Shut up." How do you tell someone that you're mad they hadn't met you sooner? Mad that all of your romantic firsts couldn't have been with them? Not only is that weird, but borderline crazy. And there were only so many personal barriers I was willing to break through in the course of a week. "I doubt the reviews were as rave as you'd have me believe, Mellark."

"Seriously, Katniss," he leaned back to look at me, "I would love for you to come with me. No pressure or anything. Maybe you could just show up mysteriously and then I would also happen to show up, and then we could conveniently run into one another. Maybe."

"Yeah, Mellark. Maybe."

That maybe translated into a "more than likely" after having lunch with my little sister. Deciding to break my vow of Peeta silence, I spilled the beans when she came to campus the next day. Her fall break had officially begun, so she'd taken the bus to pay me a visit. When I had debriefed her on everything that had transpired between the two of us.

Prim was #TeamPeeta all the way.

"Kat, I can't even deal with how absolutely adorable you've become!" Prim squealed over her avocado salad. We were at my favorite (and the only) vegan restaurant in town, acquiescing to Prim's most recent humanitarian effort. While we had foregone eating meat together a few years ago (more out of necessity than choice), she was taking it a step further. It suited her. The healthy lifestyle she was living had her eyes brighter and her skin looking even more porcelain than usual.

Prim had always seemed less rough around the edges than the rest of us from the Seam- the broken down apartment complex that most of the textile workers and their families inhabited. While neither of my parents were employed by Snow Textiles, we had all found purchase in our little oasis. The kids were perpetually grimy with the dirt of playing outside to entertain themselves until their parents finally got home from working overtime just to pay the bills. And the parents, while they gave their families whatever passion they could manage, were too perpetually exhausted to do much else.

But that was our community.

And we were content. But now that I was away, I was doing anything I could to make sure she got out of there forever. Whatever work I was doing that wasn't being put towards my tuition was going home to pay the rent. And whatever was left over was put into a fairly meager college fund. Which, now that the admissions letters were pouring in, had become a real concern of mine.

"Duck, why are we even talking about me? We should be talking about how insanely brilliant my little sister is- getting early acceptance to _Georgetown _and stuff." I ruffled her hair over the table. She giggled and smoothed it back down; smiling the same smile that had kept me motivated all this time. "My little sister is on the road to being the US Surgeon General."

"Oh stop! We're always talking about school and me. All you do is worry about it. Which is why, for once, I want to know why you're denying yourself this beautiful guy!" I rolled my eyes and took a bite of my spring roll. "I'm serious. Go on this date with him- I'm literally begging you."

I laughed at her antics. "Be quiet. I just don't need everyone knowing my business, okay?"

She pushed her plate away and scratched her chin, deep in thought. "Okay fine. What has Gale had to say about it? I know he is probably poisoning your mind."

"First off, what do you mean 'poisoning my mind'? Second, I haven't spoken to Gale in days. I don't know what he's been up to, but I texted him the other day and he never texted me back. Actually, now that you mention it, this is the longest we've gone without speaking… probably ever."

I didn't know what was going on. Yeah, he had picked up some extra shifts at the factory to help his mom out now that her bad hips kept her from working as often, but that didn't explain completely ignoring me. Things just hadn't been the same after that night at the club and I just couldn't put my finger on it. I definitely missed him, but all the time with Peeta had kind of filled the vacancy that Gale had created.

"You know how Gale always is when you express even the most remote interest in another guy. He gets all moody and stuff. Rory said that you two might be fighting, anyways." Prim slipped up and told on the little gossip. Rory was Gale's little brother, Prim's best/boyfriend and probably the biggest mouth in the Seam. Not that he did anything out of malice –the kid was as big a saint as Prim- he was just too honest for his own good. And he was definitely too smart for his own good. That's probably why he and Primrose had gotten along so well.

"And you wonder why I never say anything important when Rory is around," I mumbled, putting down our money for the check. "Whatever. I'll talk to Gale and I'll think about going to the gallery tomorrow for Peeta."

Seemingly pleased with my response, she kissed me on the cheek and bounded out the front door.

"You're totally going to go- I can see it in your eyes! I can't wait to help you get ready!"

I decided that I might as well kill two birds with one stone (figuratively speaking) and combine my workout with finding out what was up with Gale. Prim had brought up a pretty important topic at lunch earlier. What did Gale have to say about all of this? He was my best friend and I hadn't even updated him on any of the changes that had been happening lately. And if nothing else, we could just spend some time hanging out, which we hadn't done in far too long.

Since he got off work early on Friday afternoons, I headed over to his apartment just before the sun had set. It was only about a twenty-minute jog from my place. The complex that he lived in was just barely an upgrade from where we had grown up, but it was certainly an upgrade. The paint on the outside of the buildings was fresh and whitewashed, the grass mowed and the recently fallen leaves had already been raked and bagged up. I climbed the stairs to the second level where Gale's studio was and pulled out his spare key from the hiding place next to the door.

I could hear the television from outside before I even walked in. Gale was lying across his couch, beer in hand, flicking through the channels.

"You better be more careful about who you let into your house, Hawthorne. There are some real crazies out there." Gale jerked up in surprise when I spoke. I myriad of emotions crossed his face before settling on what looked like complete impartiality.

He leaned back on his elbows and directed his attention back to the TV. "Or I'd better move the spare key."

I waved away his sour attitude and flopped down on the couch. He grunted when I pushed his feet out of the way. "Wow, hide your key from little Catnip? You've really changed on me, man." I feigned hurt and reached for the can of Arizona on the table. Gale never actually finished them, so I took a swig and wiped my hand on the back of my mouth. "Where have you been, anyways? I haven't seen you since your show."

He clicked the volume up a few more levels and continued his no-eye contact thing. "I've been busy. You should understand that."

What was with his attitude? I had taken the time out of my schedule to come and see him and he could barely be bothered to acknowledge my presence. "Yeah," I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. "And you of all people should know that I don't take kindly to being ignored. What the hell has your panties in such a twist?"

He sat up quickly, finally giving me his full attention. "Katniss, don't come in here all huffy because for once I haven't been at your beck and call, okay? I'm a grown man. Believe it or not, adults don't have a lot of extra time to play games." I was honestly taken aback. I couldn't believe his demeanor today. Where was my best friend at and how could I get him back?

"What is that supposed to mean?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

He shook his head and looked at me with contempt. "Come on, Everdeen, even you can't be that dense about the way that I feel." My mouth was going dry and I couldn't even form a coherent response. "I'm 24 years old and you're the only woman I spend any extended amount of time with outside of work. Don't you think that means something?"

I looked down at my lap and mumbled. "I thought it meant we were best friends."

Gale closed the distance between us quickly, directing my downcast gaze up to his own face. His expression was broken. He searched my eyes for an answer I didn't know that I could give him. "We _are _best friends, Catnip. We always have been. But you don't feel like there is something else here?"

Those hands that were so calloused from years of sports and music and work and fire held my face so that I couldn't look anywhere but back at him. And I didn't know that I would even if I could. I did love Gale; probably more than I loved anyone other than Prim. But even I could admit that I was too naïve to understand what that translated into. Gale was right. I was an adult, but had no real idea what it meant to be in a real relationship. Our bond had been forged in necessity, support of one another's crappy situations.

"Gale you know that I love you… I'm just-"

He pressed his lips to mine, effectively cutting off my train of thought. I didn't fight the urge to melt back into him. Not that I had much experience in the area, but I was pretty sure Gale was a good kisser. It stirred up feelings that I couldn't quite place; feelings that were vaguely reminiscent of what I'd only experienced in the sound booth, with Peeta.

Peeta.

God, what was I doing? Everything about this was wrong. I was ruining the two male relationships that meant more to me than anything. What I was experiencing with him wasn't at all like what I had with Peet. This was the result of familiarity, of bonding with someone who knows you better than you know yourself. Gale and I were best friends, but that was all we were supposed to be.

I broke away and stood up quickly, gathering my wits and attempting to catch my breath. Gale looked up at me from his place on the couch in confusion. "I was trying to say that I'm just with Peeta now. I care about you so much, but-"

He stood up hastily, an emotion that could only be described as rage overtaking his rugged face. "Get. Out."

Was this really happening? "Gale, I'm sorry, I just.."

"I said get the fuck out, Katniss!" He shouted, throwing open the front door and pointing to the street. I wanted to shrink into a corner and die. I couldn't believe that a lifetime of friendship was coming to an end in this moment. When I felt the tears streaming down my cheeks, it was already too late. I pulled the sleeve of my pullover up to my nose to wipe it, trying to pull together some semblance of dignity. "Katniss, please, just go." He softened, sounding defeated.

Instead of dragging out my shame any longer, I ran out the door, brushing his shoulder as I left. And I kept on running until my legs gave out and I couldn't breathe. I was doubling over, gripping my midsection trying to keep an upright position. I barely noticed heavy footsteps jogging towards me and the hand rubbing my back until they finally spoke up.

"Katniss, what is going on? What's wrong?" I looked up, the beautiful blue of Peeta's eyes urging me to him. Without even realizing it, I had run to the station- the closest thing I had to home on this campus. Without even realizing it, I had run right into Peeta's arms- the closest thing to love I knew on this campus.

"I wanna," I started, still choking back sobs. "I wanna go out with you tomorrow night, okay? Let's do it. I want to make this work. Just stick with me and I will try and make this work." I rambled, the words unceremoniously spilling out. I can't remember what happened with the show that night. But I know that I'll never forget the way his arms held me to him outside of the station or the gentle kisses he placed on the top of my head. And the way he repeated that same solitary promise he had whispered the first night I'd let him hold me like this:

Forever.

**Wow. That really took a lot out of me- so much emotion for our dear Katniss! I really hope you enjoyed it. Stay tuned for the next chapter… I'm sensing even more to come. **


	7. Salvation Song

**I am SO sorry for the wait, my friends! It has been a crazy few weeks of deadlines and dramatics, but here I am, back to spend some time with my favorite couple. I will provide a disclaimer at the top of this chapter and warn that things are going to get slightly lemony here. Please proceed with caution **(it's not that bad, I promise, I just don't want you to be surprised).

**Peeta POV **

Style of the Day: "The Newsroom" hoodie, jeans, Vans

Song of the Moment: Salvation Song by The Avett Brothers

Our apartment is so typically college-kid; it's not even funny.

We pay a decent amount for rent each month because of its prime location, not that the place would reflect it. Our layout is three bedrooms, one bathroom, hole in the wall kitchen/dining room and cluttered living room. Finn and me shared a room since we'd been sharing since dorm life freshman year. It worked well in our favor since we get to pay considerably lower rent than our other two roommates, Marcus Thresh and Marvel Gallagher.

Thresh and me met through wrestling back in the day and Finn had Marvel were friends from State's Club Diving team.

Overall, it was a solid place to call home and a laid back group of guys to call brothers. The most decoration we have is the row of empty beer bottles saved on our windowsill and the discarded canvases that I just couldn't keep in the studio any longer.

"It's awfully quiet in the morning for a house full of guys," Katniss yawned and stretched her arms over her head.

The sight of her in my bed was reason enough to pinch myself. Her tanned stomach came into view as she raised her arms, showing off her outie belly button. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and snuggled herself deeper under the covers. I hadn't even realized that I was watching her sleep until she started stirring.

"Everyone is out this morning." I replied with a smirk.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" She frowned slightly, wrinkling the space between her eyes. I sat back against my headboard and smiled. "Oh cut it out, Mellark. You know those baby blues of yours freak me out sometimes." She nudged my good leg with her foot gently.

"I can't believe that I have you here like this." Her face quickly contorted into a frown before I elaborated. "No! Not like that! I just mean that I like it -I love it actually- I just never thought that you know, Katniss Everdeen would be in my bed."

Katniss rolled her eyes and threw her legs over the edge of the mattress, signaling that I'd successfully managed to ruin a perfectly good moment by saying too much. With Katniss, my words seemed to always be my downfall. "Good to know, Peeta."

She stood quickly, moving about the room collecting whatever she had managed to shed when we stumbled back to my place after the show last night. It hadn't been in the forecast, but when we stepped out into the night, we realized that the constant fuzzy sound we were hearing wasn't coming from our headphones- it was torrential autumnal downpour. We barely made it six feet from the station's front door before our clothes were soaked through to the bone. Since my place was the closest, we decided to make a mad dash there to wait out the storm.

I offered to toss our wet stuff in the dryer while we waited. I gave Katniss an old wrestling hoodie of mine that reached nearly to her knees along with some of Finn's basketball shorts to change into. And since Finn and Annie were off on a date, we pretty much had the place to ourselves.

We sat on my bed eating day old pastries from the bakery and watching HBO until she finally started nodding off. I shook her shoulder gently. "Katniss, I'm gonna go sleep on the couch, alright? You'll sleep better if you can really stretch out." As I tried to slip away, her small fingers wrapped around my forearm.

"No, it's your bed," she yawned, "I should be the one sleeping on the couch. I'm used to it, remember?" I thought about the image of Katniss spending every night of the past year sleeping on her pullout couch. I couldn't help but cringe on the inside. Yeah, I definitely understood the appeal of getting that rent knocked down a bit; but I still saw the ever-present telltale signs of exhaustion in her eyes. She'd let it slip that she had never made it through a full night sleeping there.

I would do whatever was best for her. And best was definitely not sleeping on Thresh's grandma's circa 1968 couch. "Seriously, it's no big deal. I'll take the sofa for a night." Without another word, she crawled under the comforter and turned down my side for me: a wordless invitation.

"It's just like summer camp, Mellark. I'm not gonna bite you."

So I joined her.

And while during the night we had come close to one another, even in her sleep, Katniss was careful not to let me too close. Careful not to accept any affection that she didn't have a chance to vet- to approve.

This morning, everything was back to normal. Not that I ever knew what that meant anyway. "Katniss, stop." She paused in the middle of clasping her necklace back around her neck. "Please don't leave. Why waste a beautiful morning in bed? And to be fair, you squirm an awful lot in your sleep, so I was awake anyways."

I wanted her to just crawl back under the covers with me and pretend like everything was totally normal. Like I hadn't spotted her outside of the studio less than 24 hours earlier, sobbing uncontrollably for a reason she refused to explain to me. Like even despite her promises to the contrary, she wasn't afraid of letting me in. Like we spent nights together like this all of the time.

She sighed. "I've really got go, Peeta. I have a huge BioChem exam on Monday and need to meet up with Annie to study. Also, I'm supposed to be heading over to the multimedia lab because I promised Ga-' She stopped herself midsentence and shook her head before continuing. 'I promised someone that I'd mixdown their demo a while ago."

She grabbed her now dry clothes off of the chair where I'd folded them last night and darted off to the bathroom to change. When she came back, her hair was braided in its typical style and my borrowed clothes were folded in her hands.

"And I have to get ready for our date tonight, right?" She smiled weakly, leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to my lips before turning and heading out the door. I called a goodbye after her, but she was already gone. I fell back onto my pillows with a loud huff. Things were changing between us, I knew that –I was infinitely _grateful _for that- but it felt like every time we moved forward, something was holding us back. And if last night was any indication, Katniss had a lot of personal stuff to work through before we could put a label on whatever this was.

The reality was, just because I had loved her since the moment I first saw her, things weren't going to just suddenly change.

I had drifted off moments after her breathing had evened out and her light, melodic hum of a snore filled the room. And knowing she had been so close to me while I slept, last night's sleep had been fitful at best.

Just like usual we were so close and yet she was a million miles away.

**Katniss POV**

Style of the Day: Black skinny jeans, "Save Darfur" t-shirt, red cardigan, chucks

Song of the Moment: Sweater Weather by The Neighborhood

I was shivering from the sudden storm that had swept over Panem. Peeta and I had run to his nearby apartment to escape the storm where I would just wait it out until my clothes were finished in the dryer and the rain had slowed. His roommates were gone for the night; something about Finnick going out with Annie and the other two guys hanging with their frat friends. Regardless, it was just the two of us, and I couldn't say that I was upset at that predicament.

I had changed into some of Peeta's clothes while I waited for my own. I was swimming in his hoodie yet felt oddly comforted by the warmth of it and the way his scent seemed permanently embedded into the thick fabric.

"Kat, you decent?" Peeta questioned before stepping into his bedroom. He'd left me alone to change minutes ago. In that time, he had also slipped into a pair of sweatpants and old St. Louis Cardinals bro tank. His hair was carelessly disheveled and his biceps were more defined than ever. His sweet smile as he crossed the room to toss his clothes into the hamper made me want to melt into a puddle.

I didn't know whether it was how warm his house was in comparison to the weather outside, or the simple fact that I was standing in his bedroom for the first time, but I felt some strange closeness to him in that moment. "So this is where you get all of your beauty rest, huh? It suits you."

I glanced around the room quickly. There were two beds, his own obviously and one for Finn. Peeta had adorned his side of the room with old school John Hughes film posters and (what I recognized from 7th grade art as) Salvador Dali prints. He had a couple ribbons and worn Polaroid photographs tacked up on a corkboard over his desk. I felt a pang of irrational jealously that I wasn't in any of them.

Peeta leaned against the edge of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, I don't know about 'beauty rest'" He laughed, "but when I'm not crashed on a couch in the studio, this would be my humble abode. And I'm sorry about the mess, by the way. If I knew you would be coming over I would have fixed the place up." He had no idea what messy was. I cringed at the thought of the discarded Taco Bell wrappers still littering my bed from yesterday.

"It's fine. You know what my place looks like. And besides," I walked towards him, placing my hands on his knees. "I'm glad I finally had an excuse to come over."

His eyes flickered something between amusement and intrigue at my sudden burst of confidence. "Oh yeah? Well," he placed his hands on my hips, pulling me towards him. "I would have done just about anything if I knew that I could get you in my clothes." I was situated between his legs, my arms draped around his neck. "You look much better in them than I do."

He leaned forward, placing delicate kisses along my jaw and behind my ear.

I released a sigh and whispered, "I'd probably look even better without them."

His movements ceased momentarily as he pulled back to look at me. His brow furrowed and placed one warm hand on my cheek. "Do you know what you're saying, Katniss Everdeen? It's not polite to show a man the kingdom and not actually give him the keys." I giggled and pressed my lips to his, attempting to silence any more questions on his part.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bed. My knees hit the edge and I fell backwards, Peeta tumbling on top of me, his hands supporting his weight on either side of my face. He slid one of his hands to my waist, pushing up the hoodie and finding purpose on my ribcage. I couldn't help but shiver at his grip as he inched up, closer and closer to where I actually wanted him to be.

"Peeta…" He mumbled a reply against my neck as he continued to nibble at the spot that gave me pause every time he placed a kiss near my pulse point. "Peet, don't you want to hear me say it?"

He pulled back, his eyes hazy with what I could only assume was lust. "Say what, Kat?"

"You know… Say _it_." I replied cautiously. He shook his head vigorously and removed his hand from underneath my shirt.

"You don't have to. I already know how you feel, even if you're too afraid." He frowned down at me before pushing himself off of the bed. Once again, I'd spoiled everything with my inability to put my heart before my mind.

"And that's literally when I woke up." I sighed to Annie as she took a sip of her coffee. Since Peeta was off of work this morning, I knew The Bean Shop was a pretty good spot for the two of us to study and catch up on my lackluster love life. "I haven't ever had a dream like that. It was just… Everything felt so _real._ Like, I swear I woke up feeling so awkward about the whole thing that I was just looking for any excuse to run out of there."

I hadn't exactly lied to Peeta during my rapid getaway after all. Annie and I were studying. I just didn't have to meet her for another couple of hours.

Annie nodded her head and tapped her pen against the table, deep in thought. I had called her rather frantically on my way back to my own apartment this morning, begging her to push up our scheduled study date. She was still in bed (with Finnick, if that unbearable snoring on her end was any indication) when I called, but still made haste to meet me. She was such a kind soul it nearly killed me.

"Oh Katniss, I actually think this is great."

I laughed. "Really, Annie? How so? I pretty much had a sex dream about Peeta Mellark!" My raised voice caused the elderly couple sipping their chai teas to look over in dismay. I nodded a silent apology in their direction and cringed into my drink. I just couldn't stop slipping up today.

"And besides, the guy probably thinks I hate him after the way I ran out on him. Not to mention, he couldn't possibly know which way is up with the way I've been pulling his strings."

"Don't worry yourself, dear, I hardly think that counts as," she lowered her voice with a wink, "a _sex dream._" Annie reached across the table and held my hand in her own. Her manicured fingers curling around my terribly gnarling nail beds. "Katniss, if I share something with you will you promise not to tell Peeta?"

"Of course, A."

"I don't know if Peeta has shared this with you yet, but Finnick explained everything to me last night before… Well, before what doesn't really matter, but I _really _don't think you have anything to worry about. Peeta is in love with you, Katniss. And the thing is, I know that dealing explicitly with your emotions isn't something you're particularly fond of or great at. But if there has ever been a time for you to shake that off- it's right now. He's not the type of guy who is going to run away when things get tough."

She was right of course. Annie was usually right. And yet I still wasn't able to place where my reluctance was coming from. Why was I so hell-bent on messing things up with him?

The only thing I could think of was Gale.

It seemed to me that as long as I was with Peeta, the two of us just couldn't be friends. It was unfair on his part but maybe it was selfish of me as well. I _had _been completely oblivious to his feelings for probably years now. He had been my best friend; I'd leaned on him for everything, told him everything- had basically used him without giving anything in return. It had barely been 24 hours and I already felt the empty space in my heart that he used to fill.

I didn't tell Annie any of that. Instead, I allowed myself only the quickest moment of self-loathing before bouncing back into the task at hand.

"Honestly, I don't know if I'm capable of all that, Annie."

She leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her green tea.

"Do you want to be with Peeta?"

I furrowed my brow. "Yeah, of course I do."

She shrugged and set down her mug.

"Seems to me that don't have much of a choice than to _get_ capable then."

**Peeta POV**

Style of the Day: Rented tuxedo, Finn's dress shoes.

Song of the Moment: Strong by London Grammar

This was the event of the year for young artists.

Young people that considered themselves visual artists -not only at this university or in this state- every one in our entire region would be in attendance. And although most of us couldn't afford the grandeur of the evening, we all somehow managed enough funds to show up and pretend to look classy. As far as I was concerned, we could all show up in our paint-splattered sweats and nobody would notice. No, tonight was about the art.

The Heavensebee Fellowship was hands-down the most coveted award that a young artist could receive. I guaranteed you the opportunity to study with all of the modern masters of the trade; spend a semester traipsing around Europe _painting_. One painting was submitted per artist (the names were always omitted), to be judged anonymously at the event. The whole concept sounded absolutely surreal.

Too bad I hadn't entered.

Since it only came around once every two years, I knew that my one and only chance at this dream come true had already passed. I mean, when they only accept 12 people from across the entire nation, the likelihood of a lovesick, ex-wrestling, scholarship kid and part-time baker getting a bid was slim to none. Not to mention, I hadn't been in the studio working much lately. I'd been sort of… distracted.

I had borrowed both Finnick's shoes and his car for the evening. I wanted to at least be able to drive my date and I to such an upscale event. It was being held at a swanky gallery downtown Capital, the city that Panem rested on the outskirts of. Although there were plenty of other, much more art-centric, towns to choose from, Capital was always the host. In great part because of Haymitch, I presumed.

Although these days he spent his days with a bottle of Jack, yelling at college kids, Haymitch had at one point been the most revered architectural conceptualist in the industry. The man's work had been referenced in textbooks, for goodness sake. And he always, _always _produced a victor for the fellowship.

And this year, I know he'd been banking on me and I'd let him down.

"Peeta, you've hardly said a word since we left my apartment. Are you feeling alright?" Katniss' voice was dripping with genuine concern. I looked over at her in the passenger seat and was met with worried grey eyes. Her small hand found mine on the gearshift and intertwined our fingers.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just feeling a little nervous about tonight."

I turned back to focus on the road, we were getting closer to the city, but felt her eyes still on me. "I thought you weren't in the running tonight? What do you have to be nervous about?" She asked carefully.

"A lot of it isn't being nervous for me, per say, but this whole event gives me jitters. It's legendary. A lot of powerful people are going to be there looking for the 'next generation of great artists!' I added with a flourish, 'It feels weird to be going as a spectator. And I feel bad for Haymitch. The man taught me everything I know and he's not even going to have a student enter this year. I just, I don't know, I'm just nervous."

We pulled up to a stoplight and Katniss gently turned my face towards her own to plant a soft kiss on my lips. "Peeta Mellark, it doesn't matter what you do or don't do, you're going to be among the next generation of great artists." She leaned back in her seat just as the light changed again. "I'm sure of it, even though I've never seen your work."

I thought of Haymitch's office full of Katniss paintings and instantly cringed. I knew that she wasn't comfortable seeing her the way that I saw her; beautiful and vulnerable. It was one of the things that trouble and intrigued me the most about Katniss; she needed full control over her image at all times. She would probably never be okay with the idea of being painted. And since that had been the majority of what I'd done lately, I had made sure to keep her away from the studio until she would be.

"Um yeah, I'm alright, I guess." I shrugged and pulled into the parking lot of the gallery. The place was gorgeous- even though I'd been there for a class assignment once before, it had been completely overdone for this evening.

"Oh my God, Peeta. Why didn't you tell me we were going to the damn Academy Awards!" Katniss shrieked as I cut the engine. I wish I could say that she was exaggerating. Aside from the stream of black sedans pulling up in front of the doors, there was literally a red carpet where people were stopping to get their photos taken. I was pretty sure I could see George Clooney stepping out of the Audi nearest where we stood.

"I swear to you, I had no idea it was going to be this big. Black tie, sure, but this?" I supposed Haymitch had really underplayed the scope of this event. It was more than just young artists and their mentors, it generated actual celebrity buzz. I ran my hand through my hair nervously and hopped out of the car to open Katniss' door. She stepped out, her stiletto hitting the pavement first.

"I'm not prepared for this sort of thing! My I look dreadful and I don't know anything about art, Mellark! What am I going to do tonight? This is so bad." I took her arm and linked it through mine. I made no mistake about raking my eyes over her body, examining what she had deemed 'dreadful'. It couldn't have been further from the truth.

Her hair was twisted into this elaborate braided style with curls falling into and framing her face. And Annie had spilled when she came over to visit Finn earlier that Katniss was going to be borrowing one of her designer favorites for the evening. It was Hervé Léger, which by the way Annie described it, meant it was a big deal.

All I knew is that is was black and hugged Katniss in all of the right places. And for the first time since knowing her, she was wearing these tall, badass strappy sandal-things on her feet. She looked fantastic, and I could guarantee that nobody in this building would look better than her tonight.

We were dangerously close to stepping onto the carpet. The flashbulbs were popping and the sound of different photographers asking people to change their angle or pose a certain way, nearly drowned out the sound of her next question. There was only one way into the building, so it looked like we were going to have to face the firing squad just to get inside.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" She let a small smile and laugh escape and a blush crept up her cheeks before she could control it. I wanted to take her face in my hands right then and kiss her. God, she was beautiful when she let herself just _be_.

Her hand was trembling slight as I linked my fingers with hers and gently led her onto the carpet.

I shot her one last smile.

"I just can't believe that I have you here like this."

**Yay! Another installment complete! Please leave reviews and tell me what you thought (or what you think is running through Katniss' mind right about now). As always, I crave your opinions! Also, for those of you into actually seeing what Katniss is wearing tonight, it is an Hervé Léger ****mesh-trimmed bandage dress with Gianvito Rossi cutout suede sandals (Google it to get a clear picture). TOO CUTE.**


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